Behind the Friday Night Lights
by Mrs.CaptainPeroxide
Summary: [Friday Night Lights] About the going ons behind the scenes of the movie. Not about the characters but the actors and crew of the film. Izzy is a physical therapist on the set of the movie, fighting her demons as best as she can. Rated M just in case.
1. A Rocky Sart

**Disclaimer:** I don't own any person or character that's affiliated with this movie. I own Izzy, Leon, Trish and anybody who's name you won't find on the IMDB page of cast and crew. Read, enjoy and please review.

* * *

**  
Chapter 1: A Rocky Start**

"Ok, everybody ready on set! Lights! Camera! ACTION!" Peter Berg, director of the upcoming movie 'Friday Night Lights' shouted.

I watched from the stands as the scene was shot, holding my breath until Peter shouted "CUT!" and everybody stopped what they'd been doing. "Ok guys, get ready, we're gonna do it one more time." he said loudly so everyone could hear.

I jogged up to him and pulled on his shirt sleeve. "Peter, can I talk to you?"  
"Yeah, you have about five minutes for them to set up for the shoot. We're way behind schedule here…" he trailed off.  
"Look… I got some… family problems I have to take care of. I'm afraid I won't be able to finish the shoot with you guys."  
"What? No Izzy, you can't do that to me!"  
"I'm sorry Pete. If there was a way to get out of it, I would, you know that."

He put his left arm around my shoulder, lowering his voice, "Is it your mom?"  
"Yeah…" telling part of the truth isn't lying, is it?  
"Ok, but you have to give me time to find you a suitable replacement, ok?"  
"I can't give you more than a month, I'm warning you."  
"Ok."  
"Hey Pete, we're ready!" shouted one of the assistants.  
"Gotta go. We'll talk some more later, ok?"

I nodded and walked away.

* * *

_  
Three months earlier…_

"You can't take this job!" my mom cried out in desperation.  
"I can't not take it Mom!" I cried back, throwing my favorite shirt in the open suitcase that lay on my bed. "I need to get away from here, away from everything that reminds me of this!"  
"How about going to your grandparents' then?"  
"Mom…"  
"You know they'd love it! They loved it when you lived with them a few years ago."  
"Mom, you know I can't. It's too hard to see grandpa's Alzheimer's getting worse."

She sat silently on my bed, watching me pack my suitcase. She was out of arguments; I knew it, she knew it. Finally, she sighed, hugged me in defeat and walked out of my bedroom. She had known from the beginning it was a lost cause but at least now she could tell herself she had tried. I hated leaving her alone but I couldn't stay. At last, I finished packing the last bit of clothes I'd bring with me and started closing my suitcase. But before I closed it all the way, I picked up a picture frame on my dresser and stowed it between two shirts so it would be protected. Finally, I heaved my heavy suitcase off the bed and went down the stairs. I put my winter coat on, looked out the window and waited for my cab to get here.

When the car pulled up the driveway, I stepped outside and handed my suitcase to the driver. I went back in for my tote bag and to hug my mom one last time.

"Don't forget to take your medicine." I said pulling back, feeling my eyes sting with tears. "I know chemo makes you sick but the doctor says it's your best bet."  
"Ok sweetie. I love you."  
"Me too. I'll call you as soon as I'm settled in."

I got in the cab and we pulled out of the driveway. I waved at my mom and then she turned and went back in the house. As the door closed behind her, a tear rolled down my face. I wiped it away, took in a deep breath and composed myself.

"Where to, miss?" the cabie asked.  
"Ottawa International Airport please."

* * *

"Attention El Paso travelers. This is the final boarding call for flight TS-410…" I stopped listening after I was sure the announcement didn't concern me and instead concentrated on finding gate 18 where I was supposed to get on a chartered plane to Odessa, Texas. 

I was utterly lost but didn't want to ask for directions just yet. I kept walking in the same general direction until a group of loud guys cut me off. I was swearing under my breath when their conversation caught my attention.

"…went down in Permian history as one of the best all-around players until an unfortunate knee injury kept him from the '88 state championship."

So I decided to follow the group and what do you know! ended up at gate 18. I pulled out my boarding pass and handed it to the airport employee as the guys clumped in front of the large window through which you could see the tarmac.

"… we supposed to get on that tiny airplane?" one of them asked worriedly.  
"All I know is they better be serving Champaign or stuff on it…"  
"Have a pleasant flight Miss…" the employee struggled as she tried pronouncing the French name. "Lego?"  
"Legault. Thanks, I'll try…" I trailed on, looking at the rowdy group still looking out the window.

I boarded the plane and took my place, next to one of the windows. I was about to put my headphones on and hadn't noticed anyone else on the plane until I head him clear his throat. "Hi."  
"Hi." I answered, barely acknowledging him.  
"I'm Garrett." I nodded nonchalantly and made to put my headphones on, only to be interrupted by his voice again. "You with the cast or the crew?" he asked.  
"Wasn't this plane chartered for the crew?" I asked, finally looking up at him. That's what I'd been told anyway.  
"Uh… yeah but I couldn't make the cast plane." he gave me a charming smile.

_Great, an actor…_

"You didn't tell me your name..." he fished hopefully.  
"No I didn't." and this time, I put on my headphones before he could say anything else.

_

* * *

I hate football players…_ was the thought that bounced in my mind throughout the entire flight from El Paso to Odessa. They were loud, not too bright and total Neanderthals. There were only a few girls on the flight and each one of them got very unsubtly hit on during the flight. Even me. 

"Hey, hey guys, look at this one here." a big ox of a guy said, pointing in my direction. Even with my music blasted on, I could still hear him talk. "She's ignoring us!" he laughed loudly. "Come on babe, give me a smile." he tried cajoling.

But I kept staring outside at the dried out land, hoping we would land soon. Fortunately for me, we did. I waited for everyone to get off the plane and then exited myself. I followed the loud group from a good distance back. After picking up out luggage, I spotted a guy holding a sign that read "F.N.L. CREW" and headed toward him. When we were within earshot, he smiled and said "You must be Isabelle Legault." and extended a hand out for mine.  
"And you are?" I asked, shaking his hand.  
"Ouch." he laughed, feigning getting hit in the chest. I stayed stone faced. "I'm Peter Berg, director."  
"Sorry." this guy was the reason I had a job in the first place and I didn't even know who he was.  
"That's ok. My mom always said a little humility was good for the soul." and he gave me a genuine smile. "You came highly recommended for the job."  
"Yeah, I was wondering why a physical therapist out of Canada was being asked to work on the set of a movie…"  
"You treated my nephew last year… Noah?" I nodded. Pretty nice kid as I remembered. "He said if anyone could get a bunch of guys to do what a physio asked them, I would be you." he laughed, "He said it had something to do with your headlock."  
"Ah…"

The year I had treated Noah, there had been this really annoying client at the clinic where I worked. He kept complaining about his knee injury but wouldn't do anything my colleague told him to do. He was an ass to everyone at the clinic and kept hitting on our shy assistant, Nadine. She was only sixteen and from what the other physiotherapist had told me when I had joined the clinic, she'd been physically abused by her dad all her life.

So this one day, he came in the treatment room and lay on the table, waiting for his physio. I was treating Noah's bad sprain and was in the middle of a manipulation when it happened. Nadine was setting up one of the electroshock machines beside the Oaf's table. He was sweet-talking to her as usual and she was trying to ignore him. When she had finished setting up the machine, she had started to walk away, and he had grabbed her by the wrist, screaming at her how dare she walk away from him, that sort of thing. He even went as far at to put a hand on her ass and squeeze it! So I got up, walked calmly to his table and told him to let her go. He laughed in my face and slapped her ass. That's when I wrapped my right arm around him and held him in a headlock until he apologized. After that, every time he came to the clinic, he was very subdued and did all the exercises his physio set him up on. Within two weeks, he was well enough that he didn't need physiotherapy anymore and didn't come back to the clinic.

"Don't worry, I won't put any of your stars in physical harm." I pledged, holding up my right hand without cracking a smile.  
"Hey, do whatever you have to so they get back on the field. Remember, bruises can be covered up with makeup." he laughed.  
"Can I get that in writing?" I teased my voice the only indication of the jest.

By now, all the other crew members had joined us and we piled in a bus. It was only a twenty minutes drive until we got to the hotel. I had sat in the first seat behind the driver and that actor guy – what was his name again? Greg or something? – sat across the isle from me and invited Peter to sit with him. Before he let us off the bus, Peter stood up until he had everyone's attention.

"Ok, so this is your training camp so we're going to operate under strict rules and schedule. If you're on the football team, you will get up at zero six hundred and start your day with a five miles run. After a quick breakfast, you will meet with the coaches on the gridiron. They will instruct you as to how the rest of the day will be spent. As to you other members of the crew, you're to report to the staff assignments at zero eight hundred in the mess hall. Thank you."

Everybody got off the bus and grabbed their luggage. As I made to grab my suitcase, a huge shadow stopped in front of me and I couldn't help but to look up. It was the ox that had tried to hit on me.

"Need any help with that babe?" he asked in a low rumble, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.  
"No." and I walked off with my luggage.

As I got to the glass doors of the hotel, Peter walked up to me and grabbed my suitcase. "Your schedule will be a bit different than everyone else's." I nodded, I had expected as much. "You'll meet the guys at the field after breakfast. I want you to meet the coaches and your team. Don't let yourself be impressed by the age of some of your colleagues. You'll be the one in charge."  
"Can I do the run with the guys?" I asked.  
"Uh… did you hear the part where I said it was a five miles run?" he laughed uneasily. "And that you had to get up at six?"  
"Is that a no?"  
"Uh… no it's not. Do whatever you want… But can I ask… why?"  
"What are you going to do if one of the guys gets injured during the run?" he didn't answer. "Besides, my volleyball coach used to have us do a 10k run every Tuesdays, Thursdays and Saturdays. If you calculate things right, it adds up to 6.2 miles three times a week."

Before he could reply, I ripped my suitcase out of his hand and hastened to catch the first elevator to my floor. I got to my room and inserted the keycard only to be met by loud music.

"Hello?" I asked, stepping in the room.  
"Oh, hey!" a black girl smiled at me, extending her hand in welcome. "I'm Trish, your roommate. Hope you don't mind I chose a bed."  
"Hey Trish, I'm Isabelle but you can call me Izzy. No, I don't mind at all. What department are you with?"  
"Wardrobe. And I must admit I'm in heaven. Eighties' fashion? I just love it. Can't believe I'll get paid to force guys to wear trucker hats and tight acid washed jeans. What about you?"  
"I'm head of the S.M. staff." she looked at me quizzically. "Sports medicine." I added.  
"Oh cool! You're the _head_ of the staff? How old are you?" she seemed worried for a while.  
"Twenty one. I only got the job because I treated the director's nephew last year."  
"Hey, don't ever apologize for it. This business is all about connections. One of my good girlfriends goes out with a PR guy for Universal. That's how I landed here." after a few seconds, she added, "And I'm twenty two."  
"So why didn't I see you on the plane?"  
"Oh I'm local. Only football players were brought out of state. A few cheerleaders too. I mean, it can't all be actors in the movie right? Someone has to show them how it's done. And how about you? Where are you from?"  
"Gatineau, Quebec, Canada."  
"Ok, I know what and where Canada is but the rest means nothing to me. At all."  
"Gatineau's the city I live in and Quebec's my province. Provinces are the Canadian equivalent of states."  
"Oh. Cool."  
"Yeah and before you ask – and I say this just because ever since I got on the plane every American I met did – I don't live in an igloo, I don't go around town in a dog-pulled sleigh, I don't say aboot and I'm bilingual and French is my native tongue." I said quickly in one breath.  
"Uh… ok. So um, a couple of the girls from the wardrobe department are going out in about…" she looked at her watch, "two hours. Wanna come with?"  
"Not really. I had a long day."

After Trish left and I was done unpacking my things, I called my mom to tell her everything had gone fine. After a short conversation, we said goodbye and hung up. Making sure I had my keycard with me, I exited my room and walked to the fire escape. Making sure opening the door wouldn't start the emergency sirens I climbed the stairs two at a time and was happy to see the door to the roof wasn't locked. I found a led pipe and stuck it in the crack left by hinges to make sure the door wouldn't lock behind me and walked to the edge of the building. I crossed my arms and watched the sun setting.

"Whatever the problem is, you don't need to jump." came a nervous voice behind me. I turned around bewilderedly and stared at a beefy black man in a security guard uniform. "Please miss, step away from the ledge."  
"Oh my god, you thought I was gonna jump?" I asked, laughing incredulously,  
"I'm not here to judge miss. I would just really like it if you came closer to me." he talked softly and made no sudden movement as if not to scare me.  
"Look, I just came out here to watch the sunset." he didn't seem to know whether or not to believe me. "Promise. I just wanted a quiet place that wasn't swarming with football players."  
"I can't blame you for that." the guard laughed softly. "Even these actors… they might not be the real thing but they behave like real football players. It's like have one of the out-of-state teams in here."  
"So is it ok if I come up here sometimes?"  
"Yeah sure. If anyone asks, tell them Leon said it was ok."  
"Thanks Leon. I'm Izzy by the way."  
"Nice to meet you miss Izzy. So I take it you're not an actress? You got the looks to be, that's for sure."  
"Thanks. No I'm the head physical therapist on the movie. Has the whole hotel been booked for us?"  
"Pretty much. It takes a lot of people to make a movie. More than I ever thought. And even though some folks might live just an hour away, they were given a room since the shoots can go on late at night."  
"Well Leon, I should get to bed. I have an early morning tomorrow."

* * *

"Pick up the pace you maggot!" the running coach screamed at one of the players. "You think you can run this fucking slowly on the field? Do you?" 

I kept running, trying to ignore all the shouting that cut through the music being blaster through my headphones. I guess we were about three quarters of the way in the run and some of the guys – admittedly mostly the actors – were starting to trail behind. We were running in an empty quarry, the sand beneath our feet making the task even harder than it should have been. All the while running, I pulled my mini back pack off and unzipped the main pocket. Fumbling, I found my water bottle and took long draughts.

"Argh!" someone yelled in pain from the back.  
"You get up this instant you maggot!" _sheesh! you'd think this guy was in the army!  
_"My leg!" the fallen runner moaned in pain.

Immediately my instincts kicked in. I ran back to the two of them, the running coach hovering about the black boy who was holding his leg and squirming on the ground.

"Get out of the way." I pushed the coach out of my way and kneeled next to the injured.  
"Don't mind this guy, he's just fakin' it." the coach didn't seem to have any patience for me.  
"Oh and I bet you went to med school to make that assessment?" I replied bitterly while I put my bottle of water to the player's lips. "Drink up." I held him up half sitting, half lying down. "What's your name?"  
"Lee."  
"Ok Lee, tell me where you're hurting."  
"My calves. They're seizing up."

I immediately knew what was wrong.

"You better get the other guys to stop running Coach or else you'll have to carry about 31 guys away from here." I was boiling mad at the idiot.  
"Look here missy, you might be in charge in your clinic but out here-"  
"No you look! Your guys are dehydrating fast because some idiot didn't think of bringing water out here and they're going to keel over in about fives minutes from the dehydration!"

A few minutes later, all the guys were sitting here and there, catching their breaths. I was presently massaging Lee's calves making sure he drained my bottle of water. I reached out for my back pack but it was out of reach. Before I could get up to get it, some brown haired guy picked it up for me and handed it to me.

"Thanks."  
"Is he gonna be ok?" he asked while I took out my second bottle of water out of my pack, along with a little pouch of oral rehydration salts and ripped it open, pouring the powder in the water and shaking it. "What's that?"  
"Rehydration salts. He's dehydrated to the point where his muscles are drying up and it's really painful. Water alone won't cut it."  
"Hey you hang on there Lee, I think this girl knows what she's talking about." the brunette kneeling next to me teased, grabbing the Lee's hand.  
"Thanks man."  
"Here, drink this." I ordered Lee.  
"Again? I ain't thirsty anymore." I forced the bottle into his hands. Begrudgingly he took a sip and spit it out, spraying me in the process. "This tastes like shit."  
"Then the quicker you chug it down, the faster you'll be done tasting it. I want you to drink the whole thing." I warned. "Coach, you gotta get us a 4x4 here or something. This guy ain't walking the rest of the way."  
"I would but I ain't got a phone or nothing on me."  
"Brilliant." I grumbled under my breath. "L'osti de con a même pas pensé d'emmener un osti de CB. " I always went back to French whenever I was really pist.  
"What d'you say?" the running coach asked.  
"I said you'd better get a couple of guys to carry him back then."  
"I'll do it." the helpful brunette chimed in.  
"Look at me." I grabbed him by both sides of the head. "Open your mouth." he did as I asked and I stared at the white paste that was all over his mouth. Then I pressed my forearm to his forehead, noting he was extremely hot and flushed. Finally, I proceeded to check his pulse. His heart was beating a lot faster than I liked it to be. "No you're too dehydrated. You might collapse on the way. Coach get me some of the real football players we have; big ones Two will do."  
"Really, I'm fine, I can help carry him." the brunette protested as the coach walked away.  
"What's your name?" I asked rising an impatient eyebrow.  
"Lucas."  
"Lucas you're dehydrated. The only reason you didn't seize up like he did is you're a bit bigger hence you hold more water. You have to take it easy if you're to survive until the end of the shoot."  
"Yeah Lucas, we wouldn't want the lead actor to die before we shoot the first scene." one of the guys walking by teased.  
"Man shut up." Lucas replied with his thick accent. "Ok, you're professional here." he said to me.  
"That I am. Now let's get back to the hotel."

* * *

When we got back to the hotel, I headed for the reception room the production team used for their meetings and barged in. There were four people sitting at a banquet table, two women, two men, one of which was Peter Berg. 

"Can I talk to you?" I asked roughly.  
"Did the run go ok?" he asked back, still sitting in his chair.  
"Look, I don't know how things work on movie sets and shit like that but it seems to me it's be common sense to try not to kill the cast and crew before you begin filming."  
"What are you talking about?" Peter asked.  
"Your running coach took 31 players and 8 actors running a five mile run without water or a CB to radio in case of emergency. I just had to have one of your guys carried back here because he had seized up he was so dehydrated!" I was yelling but I didn't care. Those guys had been put in danger and that made me extremely mad. "If you don't fix this, I'm walking away because I'm not about to watch a bunch of guys get killed in order to get a little tougher!" and without waiting for an answer, I walked out.

"Wow you're loud when you're mad." an amused voice came from my left. Lucas was leaning against the wall and pushed himself off and followed me down the hall to the elevators.  
"Yeah well that was a stupid and totally preventable thing that happened today. I don't like it when stupid hicks put others in danger." I answered as I pressed the 'up' button.  
"Izzy!" Peter called out as he jogged out of the reception room. The elevator doors opened with a 'ding!' and I stepped in, followed by Lucas. "Look, this won't happen again but you have to keep that temper in check." Peter said as he stopped in front of the elevator doors.  
"Just blame it on the dehydration." I said bitterly as the doors closed.  
"So, finally I know your name _Izzy_." Lucas chuckled, nudging me in the ribs as he said my name.  
"The name's Isabelle and that's how you're gonna call me until I tell you otherwise." The elevator doors opened on my floor. "I'm not your friend Lucas, I'm just here to make sure everyone walks away from this movie shoot in one piece." and I walked away.

* * *

So there's chapter one. Please review. I'll keep working on the story in the meantime. 


	2. Bad News and Hotel Room Conversations

**Disclaimer:** I don't own any person or character that's affiliated with this movie. I own Izzy, Leon, Trish and anybody who's name you won't find on the IMDB page of cast and crew. Read, enjoy and please review.

**Chapter 02: Bad News and Hotel Rooms Conversations **

**

* * *

**After my confrontation with Peter, I was too wired up to get anything to eat. Instead, I took a long shower and got dressed. Tying my hair up, I applied a little makeup, just as not to look sick or dead and headed to the Safety Staff room on the main floor. This was yet another reception room in which there were tables and chairs everywhere. I headed to the table labelled 'Sports Medicine' and waited patiently for the entire staff to arrive. 

"Hi everyone, I'm Isabelle Legault, I'll be the head of the sport medicine staff. I've been working as a physiotherapist for only a year so I'll rely on the experience of the seasoned therapists on the team. I'm not stupid enough or too proud not to ask someone for their opinion on a case when I'm unsure of something. But still, know this; I run a tight ship and I won't let anybody try to undermine my authority." I concluded looking at my staff. "Now, I was told there was a bus waiting for us outside to take us to Ratcliff Stadium where we'll be working most of the time. They've turned the visitors' locker room into a makeshift clinic. Let's go see how they've set it up and what needs to change. I'll be making a list of demands with your help that will be given to the production team. Let's go."

* * *

"Everybody, take a knee." The speaker waited until all the players were kneeling to continue. "These here are the members of the sport medicine staff. They'll be the ones taking care of your injuries, whether it'd be a cut, a sprain or something more serious. Once it is decided that you need their help, you'll have to observe any instruction they give you. Unfortunately," the head coach, who was giving the speech, raised an eyebrow and turned slightly in my direction, "their authority surpasses ours when it comes to your well being. Now I'd like to introduce you to the head of the staff, Miss Isabelle…" he too struggled with the name, "Legault."  
"Thanks Head Coach O'Brien." I thanked politely. "As the Head Coach just said, I'm head of the sports medicine staff for the duration of the training camp and shooting. My priority is your health. Not getting this shot or that one, not making sure shooting's following schedule. I don't care about that. I'm not here to befriend you," at this I spotted Lucas and stared until he looked away, "I'm here for your safety and well being. Now let me introduce you to the rest of my staff…"

* * *

The first few days of training were pretty tough. We were kept extremely busy treating mostly the actors that would portray the main characters in the movie: Lucas Black who would be playing Mike Winchell, Derek Luke, who was portraying the infamous Boobie Miles, Garrett Hedlund – the one that had been on the chartered plane with the us – playing Don Billingsley, Jay Hernandez playing Brian Chavez, Lee Thompson Young – the dehydrated kid – playing Chris Comer and Lee Jackson, playing the quiet Ivory Christian. 

After two weeks, we were becoming accustomed to seeing them once or twice a day, with everything from pulled muscles, sprained knees, bumps on the head, over exertion, dehydration and over extension of any number of ligaments. We also did a lot of preventive massages and stretches to try and avoid any major problems.

"Izzy?" I had told my staff they could call me by my nickname after a few days of work.  
"Yeah Jess?"  
"Garrett's hurt again." Jess explained his head pocking in my office.  
"What is it this time?" I sighed, getting out of my office and following Jess.  
"Either his knee or ankle. Says it hurts all over."  
"Well he wouldn't hurt so much if he was a bit less intense."

Garrett was the actor we saw most often in our clinic. He was so intense in everything he did he got injured almost every day. He'd measure himself against some of the biggest and strongest players on the team and usually lost whatever exercise they were doing.

"Mr. Hedlund." he was startled by my voice. "What can we do for you today?" I asked patronizingly.  
"I think he might have sprained something." Lucas, who always accompanied his fellow actors to the clinic, said.  
"Is that your professional opinion then Mr. Black?" I asked. I didn't appreciate people sticking their noses in things that didn't concern them. "Now you," I said, poking Garrett in the chest, "didn't I specifically tell you just two days ago to lay off that foot for at least a week? And where are those damned crutches I gave you?  
"I don't need crutches. I'm fine. Stop babying me." he pouted unconsciously, crossing his arms.  
"Oh and why should I when you behave like one?" I walked to the supply closet and walked out with another pair of crutches. "Better not lose these or I'll start charging."  
"Whatever." he mumbled getting off the table and limping to the door, _without_ the crutches.

In two strides I was next to him and pushed him against one of the lockers. There was a loud metallic 'thud!' as his shoulder pads collided with the metal. Then I drew in closer to him until my face was close enough to his that he'd feel my breath on his skin.

"Listen to me now, 'cause I'll only say this once; I can dislocate every articulation in your body and put it back two agonizing hours later without even leaving so much as a bruise on you. Now if I see you walking without your crutches before _I_ say you don't need them anymore, you'll have to answer to me." He blinked and I was caught off guard by the intensity of his steely blue eyes. Pulling back and composing myself, I added, "There's the table, there are your crutches now get to it."

He begrudgingly limped back to the table and sat quietly. I could see Lucas stifling a laugh and turned on him.

"And you, what are you still doing here?" I barked.  
"N-nothing ma'am." he replied looking down.  
"Then get back to your training."

He walked out and I stared at Garrett's leg. His ankle and toes were swollen, so was the side of his lower leg up to his knee. A dark purple bruise had already appeared running from his toes to his ankle. I sighed in desperation.

"This is a really bad sprain." I picked up his foot, one hand behind the ankle joint, the other palm pressed against the arch of his foot, tilting his foot upward to my patient's obvious discomfort. "Get the portable x-ray machine. I want to see this on film." I added to Jess who was still standing next to the table.

We took x-rays of Garrett's ankle and leg up to his knee. He would wince when I had to force him into proper positioning for the x-rays but didn't complain. While the film was developing, I tried making Garrett a little more comfortable, putting some pillows under his knee and a cloth bag of ice on the swollen area.

After taking a look at the x-rays, I returned stone faced to the table where Garrett was still lying. I was really trying to control the anger boiling in my veins and silently took the bag of ice off, roughly pulled Garrett so his mid calf was at the edge of the table and started bandaging his ankle.

"Well?" Garrett finally asked when his patience had worn out.  
"You tore a side ligament about halfway through." I said sternly. "It's crucial you don't walk on it for at _least_ two weeks."  
"Two weeks!"  
I continued talking like I hadn't heard him, "I'll have to check with Bob," Bob was the veteran on my staff, he'd been in sports medicine for over 15 years, "but I'm afraid we'll have to take you to the local hospital to get a cast. I'll give you an answer by the end of the day." I never raised my voice but spoke forcefully.  
"I can't stop training for two weeks!"  
"Garrett." I sounded menacing and he looked at me. "I'm serious. If you don't do what I say, this will worsen and then you'll need surgery. And if you need surgery, you'll be off the movie for good."

I walked to the nearest sink and washed my hands without looking twice at his wide-eyed, gaping mouth face. I turned and leaned against the sink, crossed my arms and looked back at him silently.

"I think you can go back out on the field now." Jess whispered to Garrett. "And don't forget these." he added, handing the crutches to Garrett.

Garrett kept looking at me, disbelief etched on his face and when it became clear I had nothing more to add, he walked out.

"Well, I'm done for the day Jess." I said, walking back to my office.  
The young man followed me. "You know the coaches are gonna be storming the clinic any minute now, right?" he seemed nervous.  
"Yes." I answered calmly. "And when they do, send them to Peter. I'll write my consultation report and drop it by his office in two seconds. Let him deal with the angry coaches for once."

* * *

At half past five the door of my room opened and Trish came in. She let herself fall on her bed, exhaling loudly. 

"So how did your day go?" I asked amused by her over dramatics.  
"It was totally hectic, thanks to you." she said, turning so she lay on her stomach.  
"Me?" I asked innocently looking up from the book I was reading and raising an eyebrow.  
"Yeah you." she seemed rather amused. "We were supposed to be working on the uniforms but Garrett Hedlund was shipped our way to try out civilian clothes since that's pretty much all he can do aside from learning the plays and lifting weights for the next few weeks."  
"Don't forget learning his dialogue." I replied cheekily.  
"You're amused by all this!" she looked really shocked but there was laughter in her voice. "You're genuinely amused by all this! You've got the entire production and coaching staff running around like headless chickens and you're amused!"  
"If he had listened to me the first ten gazillion times I told him to take it easy it wouldn't have gotten to this." I got out of my chair and walked to the bathroom. "I heard there's a half decent club not too far from here, wanna go?"

Trish actually fell off the bed at my proposition.

"_You_ want to go _out_?" I nodded. "Well I'll be damned!"

In the past two weeks since we'd started working, I had spent my evenings either going over individual case files, reading or out on the roof. Her surprise was to be expected.

"So? How about it?"  
"It's a good thing tomorrow's Saturday and we have the weekend off 'cause I'm gonna get you drunk!" she laughed.  
"Ok but if you're planning on getting me drunk I have to get something to eat first." I put my shoes on, "You coming to the mess hall with me?"  
"Sure." she walked over to me but knocked my mostly empty suitcase down. A framed photograph of a guy fell out and she grabbed it. "Hey, who's this? Your boyfriend?" she asked playfully.

I wrenched the frame from her hands and put it back in my suitcase, zipping it shut angrily. "No, my brother." I finally answered, opening the door.

"Oh. You two close?" she asked while pulling on her sneakers.  
"Not really; he's dead." I answered and walked out.

* * *

"That bitch!" Garrett exclaimed as Lucas sat on the bed across from his.  
"Well, what'd she say?" Lucas asked in his thick accent, watching Garrett bang the receiver on the phone mount over and over again.  
"Be ready to go to the hospital at 10 sharp tomorrow morning." Garrett mimicked in a high pitched voice, making faces while he spoke.  
"Damn man, you just _had_ to keep practicing after she told you not to." Jay Hernandez complained. 

The three guys usually hung out in the room Jay shared with Lee Jackson but he was sleeping off his heat stroke.

"Man, shut up!" Garrett angrily threw a pillow at Jay.  
"Hey, you're the one you should be angry at." Lucas objected. "If you'd just listened to Izzy-"  
"Sure, you'll do anything your precious _Izzy_ tells you to." Garrett threw another pillow, this time at Lucas. "Yes ma'am. Whatever you say ma'am. Can I be your slave ma'am?" he said with a thick accent, batting his eyelashes exaggeratedly.  
"Shut up, Cripple." Lucas threw back the pillow at Garrett.  
"But seriously, you do have a major crush on the chick." Jay laughed. "It's almost sad to see."  
"Shut up. Y'all are just jealous." he said, walking in the bathroom, not bothering to close the door while he peed.  
"Jealous?" the other two guys burst out laughing.  
"Of that bitch?" Garrett added.  
"Hey, y'all can say whatever you want," Lucas started, pausing while he zipped back his pants and flushed, "but y'all better don't go callin' her names like that around me."  
"Seriously dude, what do you see in her?" Jay laughed.  
"If y'all could get over the fact that she's not gushin' over any of y'all just because you're _celebrities_," he emphasized the 'celebrities' with air quotations, "you'd realize she's got one really hot bod!"  
"And what does that matter if you don't stand a chance of tapping that ass?" Garrett laughed.  
"Oh believe me I'll tap that ass before the end of the shoot." Lucas answered smiling slyly, looking confident.

* * *

Ok, so no reviews yet but that's ok... I guess. Now, please review this one. Thanks 


	3. Nothing But A Sick Feeling To My Stomach

**Diclaimer:** I don't own any person or character that's affiliated with this movie. I own Izzy, Leon, Trish and anybody who's name you won't find on the IMDB page of cast and crew. I don't know any of the actors, and let me remind you why it's called fan _fiction:_ it's NOT REAL PEOPLE!! Read, enjoy and please review.

By the way, thanks to Trizzy for being my first reviewer and telling me I shouldn't drop the story. She's a great author so go check out her fics! And thanks to KidWithFace1692 for putting my fic in the FNL C2 and reviewing.

**

* * *

Chapter 3: Nothing But A Sick Feeling In My Stomach**

Club Route 66 was dark, clammy and packed. The music was loud, the beer was cheap and I was having a blast. Taking my first break in an hour, I walked off the dance floor and headed to the bar, Trish closely behind.

"Girl, I would never have imagined you could move like that!" she exclaimed after we ordered our drinks.  
"There are a lot of things you don't know about me." I said mischievously before taking a swig of beer.  
"I bet." she smiled.  
"Hey girls!" a voice boomed over my shoulder. "I didn't know you guys knew about this place!"  
"Hey Emma." Trish and I chorused.

Emma was in the makeup department and was a really sweet girl. Blonde with wide eyes, she looked more like a sixteen-year-old rather than her real eighteen years.

"The guys wanted to take me out." she pointed her thumb over her shoulders to a few of the football players on the team.  
"I'm sure they did." I said shaking my head.  
"Is it true you've benched that Garrett guy?" Emma asked innocently.  
"I didn't bench him…"  
"Right…" Trish said sarcastically.  
"He's too stubborn for his own good and injured himself. It's not my fault he has to walk on crutches."  
"Ladies," Peter came out of nowhere.

It felt kinda weird being out in a bar with the director of the movie. Even though Pete didn't look it, he was still forty and it felt like being at a school dance with your parents as chaperons. But still, we all said hi and smiled.

"So, if he's supposed to walk with crutches, what is he doing here?" Emma asked, interrupting the small talk that was going on with Pete.  
"Who?" I asked, confused.  
"Garrett; if he's supposed to walk with crutches, what is he doing here?" Emma repeated and I turned around to follow her gaze.

And sure enough, there was the cocky bastard now, walking through the door along Jay, Lucas and Derek Luke. Before I could run to him and dislocate his shoulder like I wanted to, Peter's hand clasped my arm and held me back.

"Let me handle this Izzy." he said and walked to the group of guys.  
"I swear to god, I'll kill that kid." I said between clenched teeth.  
"Kid? Come on Izzy, he's only a year younger than you." Trish pointed out.

I scoffed and watched as Peter reached the guys and started talking heatedly with Garrett. It was obvious the actor wasn't happy by what Peter was telling him and seemed to talk back quite harshly a few times. In the end, Peter helped Garrett limp across the room to a barstool and obviously told him to stay put.

"He promised to keep off his foot." Peter summarized when he came back.  
"Sure." I replied sarcastically.  
"I threatened him with a salary cut if he didn't." Peter objected with a grin.  
"Ok, now that that's taken care of," Trish interrupted, "can we please go back to having fun?"  
"Having fun? Are you meaning to tell me this one," Peter pointed to me, "was actually having fun?" he asked disbelievingly. "Now this, I've got to see." he laughed as I glared at him.

But before I could reply, _Suavemente_- one of my favorite songs to dance to- came one and I couldn't help but move to the beat. Then a group of cowboys– well they were wearing cowboy hats- walked up to me, Trish and Emma and asked us to dance. I was pleasantly surprise to realize the guy who held my hand actually knew how to dance and I forgot all about my stubborn actor problems and genuinely enjoyed myself.

* * *

When he saw Peter Berg walk towards him, Garrett knew he was in trouble. He didn't know however that his favorite physical therapist was in the same club as him and 'his boys'. _Note the sarcasm_.

"Garrett…" Peter trailed off.  
"Peter." Garrett gulped- yes he actually gulped. "Look before you say anything-"  
"No you listen. You've been warned about what will happen if you keep walking on that foot."  
"She just wants to mess with me!" Garrett almost yelled. "She's… I don't know- Out to get me!" he cried out.  
"Don't think so highly of yourself Garrett." Lucas chuckled.  
"I agree." Peter chimed in harshly. "Either way, if you don't care about your physical well-being, I'm sure you'll care about your pay check." Garrett's eyes widened. "I'm warning you, I'll deduce money from your pay check for every step you take before Isabelle tells me you're in the clear."  
"That's bullshit man! You can't do that!" Garrett yelled at Peter.  
"Sure I can. It's called protecting an investment. If you can't work because of your injury that costs me money." Peter gave him a cocky smile. "Now, why don't you go sit over there and enjoy the view or something."

Peter helped Garrett limp across the room to a barstool.

"Now you stay put, I'll be watching." he smiled again. "Have a nice evening y'all." he said to the rest of the boys.  
"I told you Peter came here on his nights off." Jay told Garrett when the director was out of earshot.  
"Shut up man." Garrett was fuming. "Get me a beer or something."  
"Hey guys, check out that girl." Derek pointed out to a girl dancing. She _was_ pretty hot. "Wanna bet I walk out of here with her?" he asked, smiling.

And off he was, walking to the girl and starting to dance behind her.

"Hey doesn't that girl work on the movie?" Jay asked as he pointed to Trish.  
"Yeah, she's in wardrobe." Garrett answered. "She made me try on like a million t-shirts today."  
"She's Izzy's roommate." Lucas added, scanning the crowd. "Y'all think Izzy's here too?" he asked hopefully.  
"I doubt it. She probably doesn't even know how to have fun. She's stuck up, she is." Garrett replied with a voice full of venom.  
"Dude, you need to stop-" Lucas started heatedly.  
"Uh… guys… isn't that her?" Jay interrupted.

Lucas and Garrett both turned around to look in the same direction Jay was. In the middle of the dance floor were three couples: Trish and some guy, a blonde with a cowboy-hat-wearing guy and Izzy and another cowboy wannabe. The three boys cocked their heads to the side and furrowed their brows as the cowboy she was dancing with dipped her.

The music then changed, but still Izzy danced with her cowboy. She was wearing a really simple wife-beater that hung delightfully close to her body and a mini skirt. _Miss California_ was now playing and the cowboy was behind Izzy, his hands on her hips and her arms had snaked around his neck.

"Did anybody know she had legs like those?" Jay asked softly as he stared.

Izzy and the cowboy were grinding, going lower and lower and when he stood up, she stood up too but in slow motion, arching her back and sticking her ass out, flipping her hair like she had just come out of the water.

"Is it just me or did that face look like a sex face?" Lucas asked his voice husky with desire.  
"That was a sex face." Jay said his voice just above a whisper.

Garrett didn't say anything but kept looking at the person he probably hated the most on earth feeling really confused by his arousal. He couldn't take his eyes off her even though he wanted to. He was transfixed by the way she moved; it was a though she had a feline quality to her. Finally the song ended and she turned to face her partner. She smiled and walked away, pulling Trish by the hand. The blonde followed them to the bathroom.

"Ok, now I really gotta tap that ass." Lucas said, still staring at where the girls had disappeared in the crowd.

* * *

The alarm-clock went off at nine thirty and I hurried to turn it off; I didn't want to wake up Trish or Emma who had slept in our room because she was way too wasted to make it back to her own. Since I hadn't had more than a beer to drink, I wasn't hung over but just really tired. I took a quick shower and got dressed then headed down to the mess hall where I grabbed a banana and a muffin then proceeded to the reception hall.

At five to ten the elevator doors opened and Garrett walked out, struggling to master the use of the crutches. I was exasperated to see Lucas was accompanying him and waited until they spotted me to walk out. There was a van waiting for us and I got in wordlessly. The guys got in after me and we left for the Maitland hospital. We were all quiet until I noticed they were both staring at me with smirks on their faces.

"What?" I asked ruefully.

There was a long pause before Lucas answered, "It should be illegal to dance like you do."

I rolled my eyes.

"It should be as much of a punishable offence as indecent exposure." Garrett laughed.  
"If it bugged you so much, you just didn't have to watch." I scoffed.  
" 'Bugged' isn't the word I'd use…" Lucas answered his voice full of meaning as he stared at me intently.

Again I rolled my eyes.

Two hours later, we walked out of the hospital and I called the hotel to have someone pick us up. Garrett sat on a park bench and leaned his crutches next to him, glaring at his cast. Lucas sat down as well, looking at me. I stayed up. After about ten minutes, I pulled out a book out of my tote bag.

"You can sit next to me _Izzy_." Lucas patted the seat next to him.  
"I've told you before not to call me Izzy." I replied over my shoulder. I kept reading until I spotted the van twenty minutes later. "Get up, the van's here." I called out, walking to the curb.  
"You must've had tons of guys at your feet back home." Lucas pressed on as the van pulled out of the hospital's driveway. "Dancin' like that…" he trailed off.  
"Please stop talking now." I scoffed. This was a slippery slope.  
"Drop it Lucas," Garrett started to my utter surprise. His eyes hardened, "It's easy to see she's nothing but a tease."

I stiffened and snapped my head in the opposite direction, tears stinging my eyes. I tried to shake the memory away but couldn't.

Flashback

_Hands fumbling in the dark. Skin pressed against skin. Ragged breaths._

"_You're nothing but a tease, you know that?"  
_"_Stop!" she had wanted to scream, but nothing came out._

_His hand caressed her arm and the girl shuddered._

End Flashback

"You okay?" Lucas asked, reaching out and stroking my arm.  
"Don't touch me!" I slapped his hand away. "Pull over, I'm gonna be sick!" I cried at the driver.

He barely had time to stop before I jumped out of the van and ran to the high grass that lined the road and bent over, my stomach emptying itself of all its content.

* * *

Over the next week, I avoided any contact with… well… everybody. The only people I talked to were on my staff. I didn't do any consultations myself, rather appointing someone else to do the job. I reviewed all the case files though so Peter couldn't say I wasn't working. I also made sure we never ran out of supplies and developed x-rays. But I didn't feel like talking to any of the actors; especially Garrett and Lucas.

That evening, I was just about to slip out of my room to hide out on the rooftop before Trish got back when I was surprised to see the door open and my roommate walk in.

"You're early." It was a defeated statement, nothing more.  
"And you've been avoiding me." she accused and I got up, thinking I could escape her in the bathroom. But she blocked the way and reached out for me, "Izzy, what's wrong?" she asked softly.  
"Don't touch me!" I yanked my arm away from her.  
"Izzy, you've got to talk to me. You've been hiding away for almost a week! There have actually been people asking me if you'd gone back to Canada."  
"I don't want to talk about it." I clammed up.  
"Is it your brother? Is that what's bothering you?"  
My eyes welled up with tears. "No."  
"Look I know it's hard losing someone you loved. When my Nana died-"  
"I hated him." I couldn't help but blurt out.  
"What?" she asked as her breath caught up.  
"Nothing. Look, this has nothing to do with my brother." I wiped away my tears. "I just… don't like being called a tease, that's all."  
"A tease? Who called you a tease?" Trish asked and I could see she was mad.  
"That doesn't matter. The guy's a jackass anyway; I don't even know why I let it bother me so much."  
"Because it's offensive!" she replied angrily.  
"It doesn't matter," I repeated. "Just drop it. I'm over it anyway."

Begrudgingly she let me through and I locked myself in the bathroom then decided I might as well take a relaxing bath. I spent nearly an hour in the hot water and when I got out, my fingers were all wrinkled and my face was red, but I felt better. A little bit better.

"Do you mind if I ask you about your brother?" Trish asked softly from her bed.

I had kind of hoped she would have given up on me and left the room but she hadn't. I knew she wouldn't drop the subject before she was informed to her satisfaction.

"He died about nine months ago. He was waiting for the bus after work- he worked until eleven thirty that night- and got hit by a drunk driver. Standing on a sidewalk." I sighed in sad disbelief.  
"That's insane." Trish breathed out.  
"We got this call at around twelve thirty. It was his roommate telling us he was in the hospital." I sighed again. "I didn't go. My mom did but I thought if it had been something bad, his roommate would have told us. A few hours later, my mom called me, crying loudly over the phone and told me my brother was dead."

I stayed silent and waited for Trish to say something. She was twisting her hands nervously and avoided my eyes. Finally, she sighed too.

"And you said you hated him…" she started tentatively.  
"It's not so much that I hated him as… I couldn't stand to be around him."  
"That's normal between siblings."  
"No… you don't get it…" I paused for a long time before talking again. "My brother molested me from the time I was about nine up until I was fourteen." Trish's eyes were wide and her mouth was gaped. "I never told anyone. I just… tried blocking it from my mind. Most of the time, I can convince myself I made up the whole thing. So most of the time when I think of my brother, all I have is a sick feeling to my stomach."  
"So, that's why it bothered you so much to be called a tease?"

I shrugged.

"I'd like to get some sleep now if you don't mind." I whispered softly.  
"Yeah, go ahead." Trish smiled weakly. "I'm sorry I made you talk about him."  
"I'm not." I answered as I slid under the covers.

**

* * *

Author's note: Before anybody asks, let me assure you that although the Izzy character is inspired by me (her nature and how she reacts to things, the grnadpa with Alzheimer's, age, nationality) I was NEVER MOLESTED by my brother or anyone else. Just thought I'd let you know. No shoo, go review!**


	4. Judgement Call

**Disclaimer:** I don't own the actors, the characters of the movie or anyone except Izzy, Trish, Leon, Emma and Robby.

**A/N:** ok, so I got a few more reviews and I felt really bad about not posting this because I think it's actually really good and I was proud of myself for writing this chapter so I'll go ahead and post it anyway. Enjoy and I'd really appreciate reviews.

**Chapter 4: Judgment Call**

"Izzy? We need you out here." Jess's voice cut through my thoughts.

"Yeah?" I asked getting up.

"It's Lucas. I think he dislocated his shoulder."

I walked in the treatment room and saw Lucas lying on one of the tables, Garrett and Jay standing next to him.

"Jess, hold him down." I demanded as I pushed my way through to Lucas.

"Shit Izzy, that _hurts_ you know!" Lucas growled as I touched his shoulder.

"Lucas, how many times will I have to tell you?" I asked gently… ish. "It's either Isabelle or Miss Legault."

"Why d'you have to be like- OW!!!" he screamed; I had just pulled on his arm and put his shoulder back in place.

"Now, ice, rest and a sling for a week." I quickly enumerated. "Come back and see me next Tuesday. If it hurts too much, take some Tylenol. Jess, take care of him please?" I added and headed back to my office.

I had just sat back down behind my office when I heard footsteps approaching.

"Why do you hate him so much?" a voice accused from the doorway of my office.

"Excuse me?" I asked, looking up to Jay and sitting back in my chair.

"Why do you hate him so much? Why are you so mean to him?" he demanded again.

"I'm not mean to him." I stated patiently.

"You don't let him call you Izzy-"

"Do I let _you_ call me Izzy? Or Garrett? Or any of the other football players?" Jay shook his head. "Then why do you say I'm mean to him? I treat him the same as everybody else."

"But it's not the same! I mean, Lucas has-"

"A huge crush on me?" I nodded, "Do you honestly think I hadn't noticed? But what would you have me do? Encourage him? So you could then accuse me of leading him on?"

Jay stared at his feet and stayed silent. My phone rang at that moment and I answered. It was Pete who wanted to see me. I got up and walked out of my office, Jay following closely.

When I entered the treatment room, Garrett and Lucas were still there, Lucas getting his arm sling put on and Garrett getting his cast signed by the members of the staff. When Lucas was done he got up and headed towards the door.

"Well, that's everybody's signature then." Garrett stated as he looked straight at me and then followed Lucas out.

I smiled to myself at the attempted slight; this guy could be so childish.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The three weeks of training were now over and the shoot was about to begin. We had four days off before the real work started and I intended to enjoy the quiet for a change. I was just closing up the clinic when I heard noises coming from the weight room across the hall. So I locked up and decided to have a look, seeing as no one was allowed to be in there after hours.

I walked in the poorly lit room quietly and squinted to see who was lifting weights. I could hear the guy breathe in heavily from the effort and drew closer. Then I spotted a white blur on the lifter's leg and realized it was Garrett. _That's ok; he's allowed to lift weights…_ I thought as I prepared to walk out. But just then, Garrett stood up and wobbled to another station.

"Even with a cast on, you're just too damn stubborn to use your crutches." I called out from my spot in the dark, making him jump.

"Of all the people to catch me…" he trailed off, sighing dejectedly.

"Garrett, sit down." I said nonchalantly.

He didn't argue and sat down.

"I don't know how to get through to you." I sighed. "I'm not doing this to be a bitch; I'm really just trying to get you better."

I shook my head.

"You know, you really are a second Boobie Miles." I paused and looked at Garrett but he didn't say anything, only raised his eyebrows at me. "You're just like him. You may not be black, you may not be a football player and you're not half as full of yourself as he is in this movie… Well, maybe you are-"

At this, I paused again and looked Garrett in the eyes, waiting for his objection. It didn't come, so I went on:

"-but you're as stupidly eager to get back out there and show everyone you can do it. The thing is Garrett, even though a bum knee or ankle might now cost you your career or your future, it will have a significant impact on your life. I should know; when I was in highschool I went to summer camp and on the first day of a week long stay, I sprained my ankle really badly. We went to the hospital and the doctor told me to stay off it a week; I stayed off 3 days. After that, I kept spraining my ankle every few months unless I wore an ankle brace. And do you know how long that went on? Four years; until I did enough physiotherapy to get back in real shape. But to this day, I still wear ankle braces when I do any type of sport; I don't want to go through that again." I concluded.

Again I waited to hear what he'd have to say but he still kept quiet. He had on a face of ashamed defeat I would later recognize when I'd see the movie- the scene after the Midland Lee loss- and always wonder if he had been acting that night of if he had used our conversation as a way to conjure up that face later.

When it became clear he wouldn't say anything, I got up and headed for the door.

"Are you gonna tell Peter on me?" he asked just as I had reached the door.

_Ah,_ I thought, _that's why he was being so quiet and demure; you don't bite the hand that feeds… Especially if you're not even sure yet if the hand _is_ gonna feed you._

"Would it even make a difference if I did and he deducted money from your pay check?" I asked over my shoulder. He stayed silent. "Didn't think so."

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Halfway though my second day off, I found myself heading up the emergency exit staircase to the roof in an attempt to get away from Trish. Don't get me wrong, she's nice and all but I swear that girl's life ambition is to heal mankind of all its wounds and she's decided to start with me. Ever since I talked to her about my brother, she's been analyzing every word I say and asks me about fifty times a day "and how does that make you feel?" or "how do you feel about that?"

So as I said, I'm heading out to the roof to get any from my 'therapist' and when I get up there, I stop a few feet away from the edge. There's a plastic lounge chair- one that you'd normally find by the hotel's poolside- about two feet away from the edge of the roof, facing the direction the sun sets in. As I make my way closer, I can see a note taped to the chair's back and I pick it up.

_I just thought I'd make watching the sunset a little more comfortable for you, Miss Izzy.  
__-Leon_

With a smile I sat down and watched the sun set and the stars come up. I hadn't even realized I had fallen asleep until I woke up in the cool night air, shivering. I didn't know how long I had slept for but headed back down to my room. The clock on my nightstand indicated 10:30. I decided I might as well get ready for bed and read until I fell asleep again.

The second time I woke up, feeling disoriented, I could hear Trish' slow breathing. I didn't know why I had woken up and hoped it wasn't because I had slept out on the roof and wouldn't be able to fall back asleep. And that's when I heard it; a tiny noise that could have gone unnoticed if I hadn't been such a light sleeper. I turned in the direction the sound was coming from: the sliding glass window.

I walked up and pulled the curtains apart just as something small flew at the window and made another noise. A pebble, I guessed. I got out on the balcony and looked down- we were only on the second floor- and saw a shadow standing in the bushes, about to throw another projectile.

"Who's there?" I hissed.

"Isabelle, is that you?" the voice answered. I was unable to recognize it.

"Yeah, what gives?" I asked, annoyed at being woken up.

"You have to come to room 135, someone's hurt." and I saw the shadow run away.

_You've gotta be shittin' me._ I grumbled noiselessly. I put on jeans and a sweatshirt, making sure I had my keycard and cell phone just in case. _This better not be a prank._

I decided to use the stairs instead of waiting for the elevator then walked down the hall until I found room 135 and hesitated briefly before knocking. I didn't have to wait for long for the door to swing open and frowned when I was answered by Lucas.

"Aren't you on the second floor too?" I asked as he pulled me in.

"Me and Garrett are." he slurred. I could smell alcohol on his breath.

"What's going on Lucas?"

"Robby's hurt real bad, Izzy."

"How many times do I- Hey!" I cried out when he yanked on my arm so I'd enter the room further.

Robby- one of the real football players- was indeed looking pretty bad, lying on what I only assumed was his bed. He had bruises already forming on his face and his shinbone was sticking out of his leg in a painful open fracture. I kneeled next to him on the bed and immediately checked his pulse; his heart was beating furiously and his skin was boiling.

"What the fuck happened! And why didn't you take him to the hospital?!" I screamed at Lucas, Jay, Garrett, Derek and some other football player.

"We were out at this bar, on the balcony-" Jay started, slurring his words too.

"We were play fighting-" added Garrett with difficulty. _God, are they all wasted?_ I asked myself.

"And he just…" Derek made a whistling noise like the one's you'd hear in cartoons when something was freefalling then a splat noise, "fell." he concluded.

I briefly looked up from Robby's wound to stare bewilderedly at the other guys before looking back down.

"And _why_ didn't you take him to the hospital?" I asked again.

"Coach said he didn't want us going out and ruining all our training by getting drunk. Peter said he'd have our asses if we got into trouble." the other football player whose name I couldn't remember explained pitifully.

Garrett crutched his way to me and lowered his head so he could speak in my ear and he was so close I could smell his breath.

"So you can't tell anyone, it's our secret." he said loudly in my ear, stumbling over every other word.

I rolled my eyes.

"Promise!" he added roughly, yanking my arm away from Robby.

"Ok!" I yelled back. Satisfied, he walked back to the chair he had been occupying before. "You-" I looked at Lucas, "get me some clean towels from the bathroom." I ordered.

He walked away obediently.

"Jay, you go to the ice machine. Bring me lots of ice."

"Um… ok, but why?" he asked, his eyes screwing up when he looked at me.

"Because Robby's running a fever."

He nodded then left the room.

"Izzy, I mean, Isabelle, they haven't got any towels in their bathroom." Lucas came back dejected.

"Well go to the front desk and ask for some!" I screamed at him. "And why don't you take Garrett with you." I added bitterly as the drunken cripple started laughing uncontrollably.

And so they left the room too. Derek just sat in the armchair at the opposite end of the room and closed his eyes.

"Fuck this shit." I said as I flipped my phone open and dialed. "Peter?" I said hurriedly when he finally picked up. "Call an ambulance then get to room 135 as quickly as possible." and hung up without explaining any further.

Jay was the first to come back closely followed by Lucas. I didn't even see Garrett come back. I ripped away the towels from Lucas's hands and wrapped them around the protruding bone to stop the bleeding; Robby had already lost a lot of blood. Then, I put the remaining ice cubes in another towel and lay it on my patient's chest to lower his temperature more quickly.

That's when things started getting _really_ bad. Robby started trashing wildly in his bed, slapping me across the face and throwing off the ice. I was screaming at the guys for help when his eyes rolled back in his eye sockets. Then Peter burst in the room and more yelling ensued, the guys screaming at me for calling him and Peter screaming at the guys to know what was going on. And then suddenly, Robby stopped trashing.

I checked his pulse again and dread washed over me as I didn't feel one. I pressed my ear against his chest- cool from the ice- but didn't hear a breath. As tears stung my eyes, I screamed for everyone to get out except Peter. Pulling myself up, I ran my fingers along Robby's ribs, trying to find the right place to apply pressure.

"Peter, please go check if the ambulance's here." he opened his mouth to object but I cut him short, "_please_." I asked with a wobbly voice.

As he walked out, I started CPR and looked to the sky while I counted the 'beats'- half in an attempt to get my tears out of my eyes, half imploring God to help me. Then I tilted Robby's head back and gave him the breath of life only to start pumping his heart again. The more time passed, the more desperate I got and really tried to control myself so I didn't press on his sternum too hard. I was starting my tenth cycle when a heavy hand dropped on my shoulder.

"Miss, miss, let us through." a strong voice called to me and I looked up to see the paramedics.

"How long have you been performing CPR miss?" the other paramedic asked as they cut through Robby's shirt and applied adhesive pad electrodes to his chest.

"Uh… two and a half minutes." I sniffled.

When the last electrode was on his chest, the portable heart monitor emitted a loud uninterrupted 'beep' and the paramedics prepared the defibrillator.

"Clear!"

I jumped as they jolted Robby's body with electricity and Peter- who had re-entered the room with the paramedics- wrapped his arms around me.

_Beeeeeeeeeeeeeep._

"He's still asystolic. Charging to two hundred… Clear!"

_Beeeeeeeeeeeeeep._

"Asystole. Again. Clear!"

After the third surge of electricity, the continuous 'beep' finally stopped and then:

_Beep._

_Beep._

_Beep._

"Let's intubate him and get to the hospital quickly before his heart stops again." the first paramedic said to the other.

When they rolled Robby out of the room on the stretcher, Peter and I followed them quickly to the ambulance.

"We can take one person with us." one of the paramedics said as he stepped in the ambulance.

"Go." Peter ordered me. "I'll get a car and meet you there." I nodded and got on.

As the other paramedic closed the doors to the ambulance, I could see the guys standing outside the hotel doors, glaring at me.

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As I sat in the hospital waiting room, I let all my emotions out. At first I tried crying quietly but eventually my stress and emotions got the best of me and I started sobbing loudly. I cried in my hands, my body racked with uncontrollable sobs until a soft hand started stroking my back. I looked up into the eyes of a fifty-something-looking nurse, with dyed carrot-red hair and blond roots, her fire-engine-red lips smiling gently at me. I felt my lower lip tremble as I looked at her quizzically.

"There, there honey." she said soothingly and I threw myself at her welcoming arms and continued sobbing into her shoulder.

"Izzy?" a soft voice called out when I had finally stopped sobbing and resorted back to silent tears. "Are you ok?" Peter asked concernedly.

"Oh she's fine." the nurse replied pulling away from me. "We did wonder for a while if we'd have to give her a sedative, but she calmed down on her own." she smiled at me and got up. "I hope whoever you're crying over will be ok honey." and she walked away.

Peter took her place in the chair next to mine and I rested my head on his shoulder. He wrapped his arm around me and we waited in silence until the doctor whom had walked away with Robby and the paramedics earlier walked into the waiting room.

"You're the one who came in with Robby Johnson?" he asked me. I nodded. "If you'd like to come with me…" he said as he walked away. "So, what's your relationship to Robby exactly?" he asked while we walked.

"Actually, he works on my movie. And Isabelle is our physical therapist. She's the one that performed CPR and first aid until the paramedics arrived." Peter summarized.

"Ok, does he have family we should contact?" the doctor asked tentatively.

"Why do you have to contact his family? He's not _dead_ is he?" I asked worriedly.

"No, but I'm guessing my family would like to know if I had been clinically dead for two minutes." I blinked back tears furiously. "Now we won't know for sure until he wakes up, but there doesn't seem to have been any damage to the brain. Anyway, nothing showed up on the head scan. The ECG shows no more arrhythmia and he's been taken off the ventilator because he was gagging on it, which is a good thing since it means he's breathing on his own."

"Doctor, what happened exactly?" Peter asked.

"Oh… Well, from what this young lady told the paramedics, Robby fell off a bar's balcony and suffered an open fracture along with a mild concussion. Because the people he was with didn't get him immediate medical attention, his wound got infected which caused a fever well over a hundred and four degrees. That coupled with the concussion sent him into cardiac arrest." the doctor explained.

After that, the doctor accompanied us to Robby's bed telling us he'd be transferred from the emergency room to a private or semi-private room shortly. After Peter told him to put Robby up in a private room and that he would contact Robby's family himself, we shook hands with the doctor and he left. The nurses assured us they'd call Peter as soon as Robby woke up and we made our way back to the car Peter had used to get to the hospital. We were both silent as we drove back to the hotel and when we got there I silently got out of the car and headed for my room without waiting for Peter to catch up to me. As I slipped under the covers, I looked at my clock and turned the alarm off. It was already 5:30.

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When I woke up later that day, I still felt really tired and stayed in bed even when Trish offered to give me a massage to relieve my sore back muscles. Worried, she walked to me and pressed a hand to my forehead.

"You're burning up. Maybe you caught Robby's fever." she said distractedly. I had told her all about the previous night's even when she came to check on me at lunchtime.

"I can't have caught his fever." I grumbled.

"Whatever. I'm calling Peter."

I objected violently but in the end, I was too weak to stop her from reaching the phone. Peter got one look at me and decided to call for a doctor and I whined moodily while we waited for him to arrive; I didn't need a doctor, I didn't have a fever, this was a waste of time, etc…

Finally the doctor arrived and took my temperature and other vitals then diagnosed me as suffering from extreme exhaustion- to which I rolled my eyes, _duh!_- but reassured everyone that it wasn't anything rest, Tylenol and a lot of fluid couldn't fix. He told Peter I'd need bed rest for at least five days and to make sure my heartbeat was back in the eighties before I got back to my normal activities.

"Five days!" I exclaimed when the doctor finally left. "I can't stay in bed for five days! I'll get bedsores! And the clinic's gonna be insane with one therapist short!"

"They can manage without you." Trish said.

"You sound just like Garrett!" Peter teased.

"Speaking of which…" Trish lowered her voice. She paused until Peter was out of the room to continue, "the guys have been badgering me all day to let them up to see you. They all seem pretty pissed."

"Like I care."

I thought that would be the last I heard of 'the guys' for at least the next five days but was sorely disappointed when Trish opened the door after a loud nock. Jay, Lucas and Garrett made their way in our room and sat on Trish's bed without waiting for an invitation to do so.

"We _told_ you not to tell Peter!" Garrett immediately exploded.

"You have no idea the shit we're in!" Jay added hotly.

Lucas on the other hand remained quiet while he stared at something seemingly really interesting on the floor. I suddenly got out of bed and walked out of my room. I wanted to make it to the roof to be alone but no such luck; the guys and Trish followed me out.

"Izzy, you shouldn't be getting up." Trish warned severely.

"You might not want to friends," Garrett continued badgering me, "but you don't have to be such a bitch! I told you we'd get into trouble!"

I stopped dead in my tracks and turned around so quickly I got dizzy, a look of pure fury painted on my face.

"You have _no_ right to be mad at me!" I yelled.

I didn't care that I was in the middle of the hall and that people could hear.

"I had to pump Robby's fucking heart!" I spat angrily. "_You_ screwed up, not me! He was _dying_! He was fucking dying and I couldn't do anything about it! I could _feel_ him fucking dying and there was nothing I could do about it! My stupid CPR wasn't bringing him back!"

I started sobbing, all the fear that had consumed me the previous night coming back with a vengeance.

"He could have _died_! If _I_ hadn't called Peter and the paramedics hadn't got here when they did, he would be dead right now!"

I felt my stomach turn and the hall seemed to be spinning faster than ever, but I had to get this out.

"And all you care about is that you're in trouble?! Did _your_ heart stop? Did _you_ stop breathing?" I asked with a shrill voice full of disdain. "I have 'no idea the shit you're in'? I don't fucking care! I stopped caring the second your shitty call not to take Robby to the hospital forced me to make the _right_ call."

I was now so emotionally and physically drained I had to put my hand on the wall so I didn't topple over. Shakily, I started walking back to my room, using the wall to support myself. Halfway there, I had to pause for fear of fainting. I was hot and sweaty, undoubtedly flushed but I didn't care.

"Just remember," I said softly, "if Robby had died, it would have been your fault, not mine. So who should you really be mad at?" I concluded, looking at the three of them.

I started walking again, Trish next to me and I knew they had finally stopped following me.

"Here, let me help you." Lucas spoke softly.

"That's ok." I objected weakly.

But to no avail; in one swift movement, Lucas picked me up and walked to Trish and mine's door. She opened it and he walked in, only to lay me down softly on my bed. Silently, he gently tucked me in and I could tell he was really ashamed and regretted dearly the events of the previous night by the way he avoided to lock eyes with me like he usually tried to do.

"Now you take care of yourself Isabelle." he said over his shoulder as he walked out.

"Lucas?" I called out and he turned around and faced me. "You can call me Izzy." I sighed and smiled weakly.

He gave me a sad smile and walked out. I didn't even hear the door close before I slipped back into a foggy sleep.

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**A/N:** so what did you think?


	5. An Eventful Evening

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing except for Izzy, Trish, Leon, Emma and Robby. Read and Review

**Chapter 5: An Eventful Outing**

A week after Robby's accident, I was sitting in the cafeteria eating breakfast, reading my mom's latest letter. In it, she was telling me how her chemo was going along nicely, on schedule and all, that everything was fine at home and that my dad sent his love; the usual. Little did she know, I had talked to my dad a couple of days earlier and knew for a fact that her chemo wasn't going according to schedule and that she was actually too sick most of the time to take her medication like she should be.

"Hey Izzy," Lucas greeted sitting down across from me at my table. I folded the letter and smiled back. "A secret admirer's love letter?" he asked teasingly.

"Like I'd tell you." I smiled. "So what are you up to today?" I asked as Garrett sat next to Lucas and Jay sat next to me.

"We're going out of town to shoot a scene." Lucas answered before taking a forkful of his omelet. "In a quarry or something."

"Your boy toy's going to be shooting at rocks today." Garrett added.

Ever since I had told Lucas he could call me Izzy, Garrett had started being on my case nonstop. Referring to Lucas as my boy toy, boyfriend, slave, pimp, you get the idea. Trish said it was because he was jealous that I didn't let him or Jay call me Izzy too.

"Now Garrett if you want to keep Lucas all to yourself, I really don't mind. But you should really drop the jealous act, it doesn't suit you." I said using my best smart ass tone.

"Could we maybe get through one meal without the two of you fighting?" Jay asked with an exasperated sigh.

"Sure, if Garrett didn't talk the whole time." I smiled at the cast-legged boy. "Excuse me I've got some work to do." I said getting out of the table.

"Hey Izzy, we're going out tonight, you coming?" Lucas shouted at me when I was halfway across the cafeteria.

I just shrugged without stopping and gave a non-committal wave. As I made my way to the clinic, I finished reading my mom's letter and stashed it in my tote bag before pushing the doors of the treatment room. There were already two players here for treatments and Peter had dropped by to get a massage. This man was seriously stressed out.

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"So, when are you and Lucas gonna hook up?" Trish asked as we were getting ready to go out with the guys.

Lucas had enlisted her help convince me to go with them that night and she had threatened to staple my underwear to the wardrobe department's wall of shame. The wall of shame was where the W.D. pinned items of clothing that were purely unstylish with the owner's name below it. It was pretty innocent except for the fact that the corkboard on which they pinned the shameful garments was located in the cafeteria.

"For the tenth gazillion time, we're not going to hook up. I am hook-less therefore unable to hook." I said as I applied burgundy eye shadow to bring out my almost turquoise eyes.

"And remind me why are you hook-less?" she asked rolling her eyes at me through the mirror.

"Many reasons, the least of which being that I don't trust guys unless it is to be complete assholes."

"Brrr." she shivered exaggeratedly rubbing her arms. "Next time you should warn me before you go all Ice Queen."

"Duly noted." I answered as I stepped out of the bathroom.

"Hey, I'm going out to get a soda, you want one?" Trish asked as she came out of the bathroom.

"Sure."

She nodded and exited the room and I turned my back to slip my dress on. I was struggling with the zipper when I heard the door open and close.

"I bet you were halfway to the machine when you noticed you didn't have money on you." I laughed. "Would you mind zipping me up?"

Trish's warm hands brushed against my bare back and then pulled the zipper up and I turned around to give her my best 'ta-dam!'.

Only it wasn't Trish that was standing in front of me.

It was Garrett.

"What are you doing here?" I asked nervously.

"I met Trish on my way here. She gave me her key card." he said monotonously, looking intensely at me.

I crossed my arms over my chest.

"You look nice, Isabelle." he added, giving me a slow once-over.

I was about to answer when there was a knock on the door. I opened and forced a smile to greet Lucas and Jay, letting them in. Just as the door closed, there was another knock and I opened it for Trish.

"Hey, the party's started without me." she smiled and handed me my soda.

"You ok Izzy?" Lucas asked and I looked quizzically at him. "You're all flushed." he added.

I just shrugged and opened my soda. As I sat next to Lucas on my bed and joined the conversation between Jay and Trish, I could feel eyes on my back. I turned around and caught Garrett staring at me just before he looked away.

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"Ok, that DJ is just plain scary!" I laughed as Lucas and I stepped onto the bar's terrace.

"I know! Did he have to do all those pelvic thrusts?" he asked, wiping tears form his eyes. "And I mean it could've been ok if he hadn't started dancing on the bar top!"

I laughed again remembering how the DJ had climbed on top of his little station's bar top and started stabbing thin air with his pelvis, not even on the beat. And how he had danced for about ten minutes in front of the mirrored wall, palms pressed on the surface, staring intensively at his own reflection. Creepy.

"You know, there's this DJ back home that's exactly the same. What do you think the probability of them being related is?" I asked.

"I don't know."

We sat down at one of the plastic tables and I took the hair band that was always at my wrist and pulled up my hair.

"You missed a strand." Lucas pointed out as he reached for it.

Our fingers brushed and I smiled awkwardly and finished tying my hair. Lucas was looking at me intensely and I looked away, uncomfortable. He moved his chair closer to mine and I felt the heat emanating from his body warm my skin. My hands were twisting nervously on my lap until he took my right hand in his. I looked up at him.

"Izzy…" he breathed out softly, closing the gap between our lips.

His lips were surprisingly soft as he kissed me gently. He was still holding on to my right hand and with his other hand was caressing my left arm. Before I had time to think or to return the kiss, he pulled back and smiled at me.

"I- I…" I muttered then shook my head. "This shouldn't have happened." I said shakily as I stood up.

"Izzy!" he called after me.

I walked away and made my way back inside the club, only to be spun around by Lucas. He was searching my face for some sign of what was going on in my head but I was so confused I didn't know what to think. I tried pulling away from his iron grip but he pulled me back, wrapping his arms around me.

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He hadn't expected her to be scared. After he had kissed her, he had expected outrage or even anger; but not fear. So when she walked away, his instinct had been to follow her, to make sure she was ok. And when he had caught up to her, Lucas had been heartbroken by the expression on her face. She looked like some scared animal that was in front of some deadly predator with no way out.

So he did the only thing he could think of: he held her tightly in his arms, trying to send waves of reassurance through his body to hers. But after going stiff for a second after he had caught her, she started fighting him furiously, pushing him away and shaking her head vigorously.

Lucas reached out for her again, the panic in her eyes only intensifying his feeling of needing to protect her. But she hit him in the chest as he drew her close and through the loud music, he thought he heard her whimpering.

"No! Not again!" she cried and he clearly heard the distress and fear in her voice and that above anything else made him let go.

In the fraction of a second before she turned away and ran, he saw her tear-stained face, the sheer fear etched over her beautiful features and noticed how she was shaking. And then she was gone, Lucas left alone on the dance floor.

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My head was swimming with conflicting thoughts and my face was drowned in tears. I walked aimlessly for minutes on end and finally looked up only to realize I had no idea where I was. The perspiration caused by the night's frantic dancing was now cruelly chilling my body to the bone and I wrapped my arms around myself trying to warm up. I spotted a bench near a bus stop and sat down on it, tears still running down my face. Finally, I rested my elbows on my knees and hid my face in my hands.

"Isabelle?" a voice called out and surprised, I looked up.

"Garrett?" I asked shakily as I recognized him. "What are you doing here?"

"Lucas sent us looking for you after you ran away." he finally reached me and sat down next to me.

"How did you find me?" I asked, wiping tears off my face with the back of my hand.

"How? Isabelle, you suck at running away; you walked around in circles. The club's just a block away."

"Oh." I said looking down.

"So you ready to go back?" he asked.

"No. I'd rather just go back to the hotel."

"Fine. I'll call us a cab." he pulled out his cell phone.

"Us?" I asked.

"Yeah. See, I've been told to stay off my foot forever and dancing on crutches isn't exactly fun." he teased. "Hey Lucas, I found her." he then said into his cell phone. "No, we're heading back to the hotel. You guys stay at the club and enjoy the rest of the night." he waited while Lucas answered then handed me his cell. When I didn't reach for it he explained, "It's Trish, she wants to talk to you."

"Trish?" I asked as Garrett handed me his cell phone.

"Where _are_ you?! I saw you running out of here crying!" she sounded really worried.

"It's nothing. I'll tell you later about it. Make that tomorrow."

"Ok… Your handbag's still here. What are you gonna do at the hotel?"

"I'll just be on the roof. Come and get me when you get back."

I handed the phone back to Garrett and zoned out while he finished the conversation and then called a cab. It wasn't until he pulled on my arm that I realized the cab was there. I got in the after him and started out the window the whole drive back. At the hotel I got out of the cab while Garrett paid and I held the hotel door open for him.

"So will you be there tomorrow?" Garrett asked me as we set foot in the lobby.

"Tomorrow?" I asked confusedly.

"I'm getting my cast taken off tomorrow." he explained.

"Oh. Yeah you have an appointment with the doctor first though, don't you?"

"Yeah."

"As head of Sports Medicine I have to be there to make sure you've healed properly. If it's the case, then they'll take the cast off."

He nodded and I started to make my way to the emergency exit stairwell.

"Isabelle?" Garrett called out after I had taken only a few steps. I turned around and faced him. "Are you ok?" he asked softly, closing the distance between the two of us.

"I'm fine." I answered stiffly.

"Then why d'you run away? What happened?" he asked.

"Don't worry about it, I'm fine." and without giving him time to reply, I entered the stairwell.

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"You should appreciate the effort I made to get up here." a voice interrupted my thoughts.

"Garrett?" I asked, getting up from the lawn chair.

I met him halfway between the stairwell's door and the edge of the roof and looked gravely at him. He was flushed from the effort and breathing heavily but his face was etched with concern.

"Did you go up _all_ the stairs?" I asked incredulously.

"Yeah." he replied and I helped him sit in my chair. "This is a sweet setup you've got here." he added.

"Thanks."

There was a moment of awkward silence while Garrett took in his surroundings. I crossed my arms and waited for him to tell me what he was doing up here.

"I wanted to make sure you were alright." he explained as though reading my thoughts.

"I told you downstairs I was fine." I argued. "You could have spared yourself the effort."

"Look, I know I've been an ass to you lately but I'm not really a jerk. You can talk to me if you need to." he said genuinely.

"I'm fine, I don't need to talk." I said stubbornly. Yes, my biggest flaw; stubbornness.

"Ok then I'll talk. You know what you said to me the other night? About your bad sprain and all that? Well I took it under consideration and that's why I've been keeping off my foot and using the crutches. I just wanted to tell you I understand now you weren't trying to be…" he stopped himself.

"A bitch?" I suggested.

"… difficult." he answered tactfully. "And that you were just trying to help me. So, I guess what I'm trying to say is thanks for looking out for me. In spite of me."

I was stunned into silence. _Garrett apologizing to me? Insane. Purely insane_.

"Lucas kissed me." I blurted out. I swear it must have been the shock that made me say it.

"Lucas kissed you?" he asked bewilderedly. "And he's such a bad kisser that you ran away?" he was clearly trying to understand.

"Maybe we shouldn't talk about this…" I said tentatively.

"No, look Lucas is my friend but it's not like I'm going to blab everything you say back to him."

"And why should I believe you?" I asked bitingly.

"You don't trust me, do you?"

"I don't trust guys, actually. Don't take it so personally." I was really aggressive towards Garrett but he didn't back off because of it.

"Ok so you don't trust guys. Why?"

"If you would have gone through half of what I've gone through, you wouldn't either."

"Fair enough. But Lucas's a good guy."

"You all are. Until your libido takes over." I said my teeth clenched.

"Are you trying to say-"

"I'm not trying to say anything." I interrupted. "I'm just saying I've been screwed over one too many times."

I walked away from the chair and looked out over the surrounding landscape. I rubbed my arms trying to warm myself and shivered lightly.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to pry." Garrett said as he walked up to me.

"That's ok."

"And I'm sorry I called you a tease before."

"Forget about it."

There was a long silence before Garrett dared interrupt it again.

"Would you like to sign my cast?" he finally blurted out.

"What?"

"There's a little room left for you to sign it, if you want to." he explained, walking back to the lawn chair and sitting down.

"Um… ok."

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As Isabelle kneeled down in front of him, Garrett's pulse started racing. He pulled out the Sharpie he kept in his jacket's inside pocket and handed it to her. She gently raised his cast and cocked her head to the left as she signed. Garrett observed her while she wrote and was glad for those few seconds in which he could admire her.

In the semi darkness, her usually clear turquoise eyes were an intense teal color and her lips were pursed together in concentration. A stubborn strand of hair fell from her ponytail, hanging loosely on the side of her face, brushing over her collarbone lightly when she'd move her head. He could even see the goose bumps on her honey-colored skin and realized she must be freezing.

"There." she said, finally standing up straight and capping the Sharpie. She handed it to him. "Now if you don't mind, I'd like to be alone." she added gently.

"Only if you take my jacket. You'll freeze to death up here."

She gave in and he felt a shiver go down his spine as he helped her into his jacket. He innocently brushed his fingers against her soft skin but acted as though he didn't notice. She smiled and he nodded, walking back towards the stairs.

"Garrett?" she called out when he was at the door.

"Yeah?" he turned around, avidly looking at her.

"Use the elevator this time. We wouldn't want you falling down and hurting yourself a few hours before you're scheduled to have your cast taken off." she teased.

He nodded and slowly made his way down the first flight of stairs. The he came out of the emergency exit stairwell and walked down the corridor, still struggling because of the crutches. He pressed the call button of the elevator and got in when the doors opened. While the steel box made its way to the second floor, he raised his leg and twisted it so he could see the spot he had kept signature-free in hopes of getting Isabelle to sign. He finally found it and read.

_It's about time you came to your sense;_

_Now you can finally get better._

_Seriously, take care of yourself Garrett._

_Izzy –xox-_

An overwhelming heat wave washed over his body and he smiled stupidly. He got off on his floor and walked to his room whistling. In his room, he stripped to his boxers and crawled between the cool crisp sheets. As he closed his eyes, another smile crept on his face.

"Izzy…" he sighed contently before drifting into sleep.

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**A/N:** so? what did you think? how many of you saw that coming? Garrett's hot for our little Izzy (daffy smile). Now, be good readers and go and review. shoo.


	6. Of Casts, Memories and Apologies

**A/N:** Aw I got reviews! (wipes a tear away) I'm so glad! To reward you, I give you another chapter. And I've written the last chapter, not that we're there already, just that I had a flash of genious, well maybe not but it just came up in my mind and I wrote it. I don't know how many other chapters there will be before the final one, but this won't be a twenty chapters epic, I can tell you that right now. So go read this one and mae me happy and REVIEW!!!

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing and no one, except for Izzy, Trish, Leon, Emma and Aidan (Aidan? you ask, read, you'll see.)

**Chapter 6: Of Casts, Memories and Apologies**

The next morning before we parted ways to go to work, Trish made me swear to meet her for lunch so we could talk about the previous night. As I made my way distractedly to the clinic, I thought about Lucas and wondered if maybe I had overreacted a bit.

_He would have never hurt me…_

But thinking about it made my thoughts wander in another direction, remembering that dreadful night three months earlier. Just thinking about it made my stomach churn.

_Panting. His breath on my face. His unforgiving hands over my skin._

I shook my head and forced the tears away. _Stop thinking about it!_ I scolded myself. But I couldn't help it; I had to dash into the nearest bathroom and bent over the toilet, throwing up the little food I had in my body. I flushed and walked to the sink, splashing water on my face, looking back at my reflection. I was pale and had dark circles under my eyes but otherwise looked perfectly normal.

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The morning was dragging on slowly and I welcomed the distraction when Garrett entered the clinic, a broad smile on his face. I exited my office and warned my team I'd be gone for a couple of hours before walking out.

"I can't wait to get this damned thing off!" Garrett smiled at me, walking pretty fast for someone using crutches.

"Just remember there's a chance- a slight chance- that the doctor will want you to keep it a little longer."

"Wow, aren't you pessimistic." he frowned. "Lucas wanted to come along but I told him it might be best if he gave you a little space." he added softly.

I didn't answer right away.

"Thanks. I'm not sure if I want to see him or not yet. Actually, I really don't know what to think right now." it even surprised me that I was confiding in Garrett.

It was Garrett's turn to be silent. We got into the van that was waiting for us and he kept quiet the entire trip to the hospital. It was only while we waited to see the doctor that he started making small talk and I welcomed the distraction from my otherwise gloom thoughts.

"Well Mr. Hedlund, your x-rays look great. The tear has healed up pretty well and you seem pretty stable on that foot of yours." the doctor concluded half an hour later. "I'd recommend a strict physical therapy regimen and I'd urge you to take it easy as much as possible. There's still a chance for a relapse."

"But I can walk on it?" Garrett seemed to want to make sure of it.

"Yes Mr. Hedlund, you can walk on it. If I might suggest," the doctor looked at me then, "the use of an ankle brace might help eliminate the risk of another injury." I nodded. "Well, if you don't have any more questions, you can make your way to room 432 and give them this paper and they'll take care of removing that cast." the doctor smiled and walked out of the room.

As Garrett and I made our way to room 432, he kept stealing glances at me and I was about to say something about it when he abruptly stopped and turned to look at me.

"How about we go for lunch after?" he asked bluntly. _Is he flushing?_

"Oh, sorry I can't. I promised Trish we'd have lunch and talk about last night." I screwed my face while answering, trying to convey how much I didn't feel like it.

"Oh, ok." he said and started walking again.

Finally, some hour and half later, we came out of the hospital and I called the hotel to have someone pick us up. Unlike the last time we were here, I sat on the park bench next to Garrett and we talked about a lot of things, none of which were really meaningful or important, just talking to pass the time. And for once, we were able to have a whole conversation without resorting to sarcasm or insults. It was a nice change.

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"Ok, so are you finally gonna tell me what happened last night?" Trish asked as we sat at my office desk to eat lunch.

"You wouldn't understand." I mumbled ashamedly.

"Try me."

So I did. I told her everything from the moment we stepped onto the terrace and tried explaining how I had panicked and been so scared without actually telling her where the root of the problem lay.

"You're right, I don't understand. You should know Lucas well enough by now to know that he would never do anything to hurt you and to trust him a little."

"But I can't." I said in a small voice.

"Why?" she asked softly.

I blinked furiously, trying to keep tears from welling up in my eyes. But I couldn't and soon I was reaching for a tissue to wipe them away somewhat gracefully.

"If I tell you this, you have to promise never to breathe word of it."

"I promise." she answered immediately.

I shook my head, "No I mean it. This is big and you can't tell. Only one person knows about and she's hundreds of miles away. If you tell, I'll know. And I could never forgive you." I tried conveying the seriousness of it all.

"Ok, I promise Izzy, I'll never tell." she said solemnly.

I took a deep breath, trying to figure out how I'd start explaining it.

"You're either going to think two things after I tell you this; either I have the worst luck in the world or I had it coming." Trish frowned but didn't interrupt. "After my brother died, I was a wreck. Not only was he dead but I had lost all hopes of ever… I don't know, ever confronting him about what he'd done to me… I'm not saying that I would have but now that possibility was gone."

Trish nodded. So far she understood.

"So as I said, I was a mess… I swear I didn't get out of my room for about a month. My mom was worried sick. Literally; we learned that she had colon cancer. I thought I would go insane! I mean, I didn't understand, she went for an annual check up every year and they'd never found anything. And the prognostic was nothing to help; inoperable and the chances of chemo working were very slight. Still, she started chemo."

I paused and took in a deep breath.

"Then, I don't know I just got this urge to live all of the sudden. My brother was dead, my mom was dying and I was letting myself die. I said to myself 'enough' and got out of my room. My best friend, Stephanie, was really great. She organized things for us to do: go to the movies, shopping, roadtrips, weekend getaways, or just spent time hanging out with me and listening to me when I needed to talk. One night, we went out and I met this guy, Aidan. He was nice-looking but that wasn't what attracted me to him. He had this sadness in his eyes and it reverberated off my own. We hit it off immediately and it was such a relief!"

"So we started going out. We talked about everything, nothing was off topic. I told him about my brother and he told me he'd been molested by his uncle when he was younger. So he understood that I wanted to take things slowly and he never pressured me or asked me to sleep with him."

"He sounds almost too good to be true." Trish whispered.

I smiled sadly. "He was. About two months ago, I wanted to surprise him with dinner so I asked his roommate to let me in and leave the apartment. He did and I prepared this really romantic dinner. Then I waited… and waited… and waited until I finally heard someone inserting a key in the lock of the door. I walked to the door and opened it… Only to find Aidan making out with some girl. And it took him forever to even realize I was standing right in front of them." I said, tears blurring my vision.

"So I ran away. I tackled them and ran away; went back to hiding in my room. One day, my mom let Aidan in to talk to me. He apologized and begged me to forgive him. That he hadn't wanted to cheat on me but that he'd been so… needy for sex. And he didn't want to pressure me so he'd found some girl and…"

"He tried to blame you?!" Trish gasped.

I shrugged. "Anyway… I was really stupid and told him he might try and make it up to me. So he organized this whole romantic evening where we'd go to dinner, then to this little jazz club we both really liked and then… whatever.

"But things didn't go according to plan… his plan that is. I don't know, it just didn't feel right over dinner. He was acting as though nothing had happened, as though he hadn't done anything. So when we finished dinner, I told him I wanted to go home. At first he didn't say a word. We got in his car and that's when he exploded. He screamed at me and when I tried getting out of the car, he hit me and I lost consciousness. When I came to, we were at his apartment."

I was staring at some invisible spot on the wall without really seeing anything. I could remember it all so clearly, it was as though it was not two months earlier, but yesterday.

"He told me his roommate was gone for the night. That no one would hear me scream, so to just go ahead if I wanted to." tears were now streaming down my face, but I didn't try to wipe them away. I was talking robotically, like I had when I talked to the police afterward. "I can still feel his breath on my face and his hands, touching me everywhere. Ripping off my clothes, holding me down, his kisses-" my voice broke.

Trish didn't talk but reached out to squeeze my hand in hers. I held tightly to her, like I was drowning and she was trying to pull me out of the water. I cried silently for a few minutes then tried to calm down and wiped the tears away. I had give Aidan too many tears already.

"So… who's this one person that knows?" Trish asked softly.

"Steph, my best friend."

"And what happened after you told the cops?"

"They arrested Aidan and he's awaiting trial. Luckily, my STD and AIDS tests all came back negative; I got the results just last week."

"What?"

"This happened a few weeks before I got here." I admitted. "In a way, I ran away again. When I got the job offer, I just couldn't let it go by. I couldn't stay home, so near to him. I just had to get away."

"Wow. To have been through so much in less than a year…" Trish breathed out. "It's almost unbelievable."

"Are you saying you don't believe me?" I asked, hurt.

"No! No, I'm not saying that at all." she smiled weakly. "I'm sorry that happened to you. I really am. And I totally understand why you freaked last night. You're just not ready to be touched by a guy and it's totally understandable."

"Thanks Trish. I was starting to wonder if I wasn't crazy or something for reacting the way I did."

"You're not crazy. You're coping."

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That night, emotionally exhausted from my conversation with Trish, I headed for the rooftop to watch the sunset and unwind. Only when I got there, there was someone sitting in my chair. Because I was facing the setting sun, I couldn't distinguish who it was and walked carefully to the chair.

"Hey." Garrett greeted.

"What are you doing here?" I asked.

"I had to get away from Lucas. He pestered me all afternoon asking about you. I just had to get away." he smiled.

I stayed quiet. I should really try to talk to Lucas. Explain it wasn't his fault I had ran away.

"Maybe you should talk to him…" Garrett suggested slowly.

"You think?" I asked, curious to know what he thought of the subject.

"Yeah. I mean, the guy thinks he's scarred you for life of something. Pretty pitiful sight, let me tell you."

"That bad?" I asked guiltily.

Garrett shrugged. "You do what you want. But I'm sure he'd appreciate knowing you're not going to avoid him for the rest of the shoot."

I sat next to the lawn chair and stared at the sunset in silence. Memories surfaced in my mind and I couldn't help a smile creeping over my face.

"What?" Garrett asked when he saw my smile.

"Nothing. I just remembered my first kiss." my smile broadened.

"Oh yeah?" he asked interestedly.

"My bedroom was over the garage and my window opened onto it. It was a bit of a climb, but I loved creeping out at night and watching the stars." I turned to look at Garrett. "I was fourteen, his name was Steve and in my mind was the most perfect guy out there. We were homework buddies. One afternoon, we went out on the roof and sat watching the sunset. Then an overwhelming feeling came over me and I kissed him." I smiled again.

"And?"

"And what?" I asked, laughing slightly at his interest.

"What happened next?"

"Nothing. Well actually that's not true. He pulled back, wiping his mouth with the back of his hands and left. We never did homework together again." I laughed some more.

"He must have been gay." Garrett stated and I looked at him for an explanation. "Come on, a fourteen year old running away from some 'action'? I mean, even if it was with _you_." he teased and I pulled out my tongue at him.

"What about you?" I asked mischievously.

"Me?" he asked, a slight panic in his voice.

"Yeah you. What about your fist kiss?" I asked.

"Oh, that. I was eight and it was with my sixteen year old babysitter. I tricked her into kissing me and she never thought I would slip her the tongue." he laughed.

"You slipped her the tongue?! At eight?!"

"That's the influence an older brother will have on a kid." he laughed even more.

_Boys._

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"Lucas?" I asked gently, setting my tray across from him.

"Oh, hey Isabelle." he barely looked up before he looked back at his lunch tray.

"I'm sorry Lucas." I smiled weakly even though he wasn't looking at me. "I didn't mean to react the way I did."

"I never should have kissed you." he mumbled.

I didn't answer. If I listened to myself I would say 'You're right, you never should have.' and that would be mean. But I wasn't about to tell him otherwise either.

"I just… have issues." I explained feebly.

"What kind of issues." he asked, finally looking at me. He looked so sad it broke my heart.

"Big ones. Believe me; you don't want anything to do with me and my issues." I tried joking.

"Don't you think that's up to me to decide?" he asked defiantly.

"In a perfect world, it would be. But I don't particularly feel like sharing those issues. Sorry." I smiled apologetically.

"So where does that leave us?" he asked half worried, half apprehensive.

"Like before?" I suggested.

"Pre-Izzy or post-Izzy?" he asked.

I smiled, "Post-Izzy but without the kissing." I answered.

"I think I can manage that." he said softly, sighing heavily.

"Lucas, I just really want you to know I don't hate you or despise you or none of that. I just can't be more than your friend, even if you'd like me to be more. I really can't."

"I understand. I don't like it, but I understand."

"Ok. Well I guess I can signal everyone they can come and sit with us now." I laughed.

"What?" Lucas asked, looking around the cafeteria.

Jay was at another table, 'having a conversation' with someone while casually staring at us; Trish was in a line that had moved forward long ago but she hadn't noticed because she was observing me and Lucas and Garrett was sitting standing beside one of the stone pillars about the room, his head poking out, surveying the conversation.

"Oh, I see." he laughed a bit embarrassed then signaled them over. "I guess there really isn't such a thing as a private conversation on a movie set."

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**A/N:** before anyone says anything I don't know if Garrett has a brother or not, but for the purpose of this story it does. FICTION people, that's what this whole story is about.


	7. Hold You In My Arms

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anyone or anything except this story, the plot and Izzy, Trish, Emma, Aidan and Leon. This is _fiction_, look it up in the dictionary people, it means something made up. Thanks to my ever growing number of reviewers, I LOVE YOU! and everybody needs a little more love, so why don't you review and then I'll love you too.

**Chapter 7: Hold You In My arms**

BANG! BANG! BANG!

The sound of furious banging on our door woke me with a start. Confused, I looked around to the room, my eyes met Trish's and then I looked at the clock. _FOUR THIRTY IN THE FUCKING MORNING?! WHAT GIVES?!_

Before the person on the other side of the door broke it down, I ventured carefully to the peephole and was startled to see Pete on the other side.

"What the _fuck_ do you think you're doing?" I asked, swinging the door open.

"Roadtrip." he simply stated all smiles.

"What?" Trish asked from behind me.

"Roadtrip. Come on, dress for a hike and meet me in the lobby in ten." and he walked away!

"I don't get paid enough for this…" Trish grumbled and I closed the door.

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"So will you tell us already where we're going?" I asked Peter for the billionth time.

"No, not until we get there; that's what surprises are." he smiled at me through the rear-view mirror.

I huffed and crossed my arms. I was sitting between Lucas and Garrett in the van. Trish was up front with Peter and Jay and Emma were lock-lipped in the backseat. Yeah, you read right; five minutes in the trip they had realized just how attracted to one another they were and started making out!

"Hey you guys still alive back there?" Peter asked loudly to Jay and Emma.

Muffled sounds were the only answer he got and I rolled my eyes. Lucas and Garrett were both asleep but being cursed with the inability to sleep in a moving vehicle, I was wide awake and grumpy from the lack of sleep.

"What's this all about Pete?" I asked, trying once again to know why our director had seen fit to pull us out of bed at four in the morning.

"I told you, it's a surprise."

"Can you at least tell me how long this drive will take?" I asked moodily.

"Uh…" he really looked apprehensive. "About… twelve and a half more hours?" he smiled.

"WHAT?!" I screamed waking up both guys and making Jay and Emma stop kissing.

"What? What's happened? What's wrong?" Lucas asked groggily, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.

"No need to shout like that Izzy!" Trish laughed at me. "This is a confined space. Please be considerate of others." she pulled out her tongue out at me.

"Peter." I said rigidly. "I have _patients_ and people depending on me. I can't be gone all day!"

"See, this is exactly why we needed to take this roadtrip. You're all too tense." he explained, eyes on the road. "We're all too stressed out. And actually, we'll be gone two days." he added quickly.

"And what about you? Aren't you needed on set?" I ploughed on.

"That's why there's an assistant director Izzy." he replied mischievously.

And try as I might, I wasn't able to get him to turn around. We kept on going only stopping to fill the tank and eat. Eventually, sleep got the best of me and I was able to rest uncomfortably, switching from Garrett's to Lucas' shoulder every so often.

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"Ta-dam!" Peter exclaimed as he stepped outside the van.

"The Grand Canyon?" Jay asked incredulously.

We were indeed in the parking lot of the Grand Canyon National Park. Everyone stumbled out of the van, stretching sore bodies and looking around. It was now somewhere close to five thirty and the sun was starting to go down.

"Ok, everybody back in the van." Peter shouted shortly after.

"Why?" Garrett asked, looking at the van like it was a death trap.

"We're driving to the North Rim. There's a lodge up there. We'll spend the night and go back to Odessa tomorrow afternoon."

"Only if you promise not to wake us up at the crack of dawn." Trish intervened.

"Yeah, I don't think I could take another day of Izzy McGrumpy." Lucas laughed.

"Ha-ha, very funny."

It was still a very long drive to the North Rim and when we finally pulled up to the lodge, even Pete was a little irritated. We all went to the reception desk with Peter and a few minutes later were walking to the little log-cottage we'd be spending the night in. There were only three rooms; two with double-beds and one with a single. In the living room there were two couches and we pulled straws to see who would sleep on the couches.

"Aaw," pouted Emma when she pulled the shortest straw- Garrett had pulled the second shortest, "I wanted to share with Jay."

"You know what, take my place." I offered. She beamed at me and thanked me. "I guess we'll be living room buddies." I added to Garrett.

After everyone had settled in, we followed Pete out to the balcony overlooking the North Rim. We sat around the fire pit and talked for hours, until most of us were dozing off and Peter suggested we all get some rest.

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It was the startled gasp that woke him. Then there was a soft strange sound that he eventually realized was sobbing. Garrett sat up on the couch he'd been sleeping on and listened closely. He could now definitely hear sniffling and as his eyes adjusted to the surrounding darkness, he made out Izzy's shape and thought he saw her wipe tears away.

"Izzy, are you ok?" he asked softly, getting up and walking to her sofa.

"Yeah, I'm fine." her voice sounded thick with tears.

He turned on a side table lamp and looked back at Izzy as she wiped away the last remains of tears. His chest tightened and he got up to take a seat beside her.

_When you came to me with your bad dreams and your fears  
It was easy to see you'd been crying_

"What's wrong?" he asked softly, putting a comforting arm around her shoulders.

"I just had a nightmare." she finally confessed, gently resting her head on his shoulder.

His other arm snaked around her waist and he held her close. She nestled closer to him and sniffled some more.

_I could hold you in my arms  
I could hold you forever _

"Sometimes it's hard being friends with you." he softly stated, stroking her arm gently. "You never say what's wrong and keep everything bottled up."

"I'm really just that way with guys, actually." she answered almost apologetically.

"What happened to make you that way Izzy?" he asked softly, pulling away from her slightly so he could search her face.

"I got hurt." she whispered.

"Who would hurt you? What did he do? It was a guy, wasn't it that-"

He was cut short when her lips softly landed on his and she clutched at his shirt desperately.

_When you kissed my lips with my mouth so full of questions_

The kiss was short-lived and Garrett was worried for a moment that she might freak out like she had when Lucas had kissed her. Even though she had been the one to initiate the kiss. But then she pulled back and looked up to him and when their eyes met, she smiled almost apologetically at him.

_My worried mind that you quiet _

She reached out and caressed his cheek. The warmth he felt emanating from her hand was overwhelming.

_Place your hands on my face  
Close my eyes and say_

"I'm fine Garrett." she whispered then nestled back against his chest and he tightened his grip around her.

_I could hold you in my arms  
I could hold you forever_

They stayed like that for a long time and Garrett didn't dare to move until her breathing came in at slow and regular intervals. When he was sure she was asleep, he loosened her grip on his shirt and laid her back against her pillow and walked back to his couch. Even after he turned off the light, he still kept staring at her until sleep weighed down his eyelids and he slipped into an undisturbed peaceful slumber.

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**A/N:** I know this was a short chapter and I personally think I suck at fluff but that's just me. Tell me if you agree or not. Also, the italics are excerpts of the lyrics to _Hold You In My Arms_ by Ray LaMontagne, I really like that song for some reason. So now make me happy and go review. Shoo!

**A/N 2:** This has nothing to do with the story but I really want you all to know 2 things: **A)** Inigo Montoya rocks and if you don't know who he is, you're missing out and **B)** Brand New is the beast damned band out there, check them out, they're genious and I'd die to have their music's babies. Now I'm out!


	8. I Should've Taken French Class

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anyone or anything except this story, the plot and Izzy, Trish, Emma, Aidan and Leon. This is _fiction_, look it up in the dictionary people, it means something made up. Thanks to my ever growing number of reviewers, I LOVE YOU! and everybody needs a little more love, so why don't you review and then I'll love you too.

**A/N: **In this chapter, there's a small conversation between Izzy and someone from her past. I debated long and hard whether to write it in French or English and finally opted for French for two reasons: A) The other characters don't understand what's being said and I thought it'd be funny if my readers didn't either and B) because I'm Statan's Evil Spawn. Now go read.

**Chapter 8: I Should've Taken French Class…**

Over the next few weeks, Garrett's schedule was so hectic he only caught glimpses of Izzy once or twice and they never had the chance to talk. The memory of their brief kiss and of the feel of her body against his was the only thing that kept Garrett from going mad.

Eventually the shooting schedule slowed down and when he finally had a chance to see Izzy and talk to her, she maintained a professional attitude and a certain distance towards him and he felt like he had stepped into a time warp and was back at the beginning of the shoot. Minus the sarcasm, the insults and the distance for each other which was something to be grateful for. This situation confused Garrett so much that one day, when he couldn't take it anymore, he sat down across from Trish at her cafeteria table and waited until they were left alone to speak.

"Did I do something?" he asked anxiously.

"Uh… To me?" Not that I know of." she answered confusedly.

"Did Izzy say anything to you?" he asked impatiently.

"No she didn't." he gave her his best doubtful expression. "I swear she didn't!" she defended herself, obviously insulted. "Why?" It was her turn to be curious and Garrett didn't answer, making her curiosity spike. "Did something happen between you two?" she asked excitedly.

"Ok, first of all you really have to stop living through Izzy-"

"I'm not!" she interrupted heatedly.

"Secondly, you have to keep this a secret…"

"I swear, you and Izzy and your secret keeping!" she sighed exasperatedly.

"What secret?" he was distracted by that interesting bit of information, "Izzy confided in you?" his attention was caught.

"You go first." Trish said, crossing her arms over her chest resolutely.

"Ok but you really can't tell a soul." she nodded solemnly. "Izzy kissed me when we were at the Grand Canyon."

"SHE WHAT?!" Trish screamed.

"SHUT UP!" he hissed at her. Then whispering, "She kissed me." he repeated.

"I can't believe this! This must be a breakthrough or something! I mean, after Aidan-"

"Hey y'all!" Lucas interrupted her.

_Aidan? Who's this Aidan guy? And what did Trish mean by_ 'after Aidan'_? Is he the guy who hurt Izzy so badly?_

"Crazy week, uh?" Lucas chatted, interrupting his train of thoughts. "I haven't even spoken to Izzy since we came back from the Grand Canyon-"

Lucas went on babbling but Garrett wasn't listening anymore. The truth had just hit him like a tonne of bricks; he now understood why Izzy seemed so distant from him.

Lucas.

Izzy had gently but surely quashed all Lucas's hopes of there being any sort of relationship other than a platonic one between the two of them after Lucas had kisser her. Garrett knew this for a fact as Lucas had told him everything and moped around their room for days afterward. So whatever Izzy was or wasn't feeling for Garrett, or whatever the kiss had or hadn't mean, she couldn't talk about it, think of it, dwell on it or act upon out of friendship, respect and/or courtesy to Lucas.

"Hey, there's Izzy!" Lucas pulled Garrett from his thoughts once again and started to wave her over when they all noticed she wasn't alone. "Hey who's that guy that's with her? Any of y'all ever seen him on set?" he asked somewhat worriedly.

As a matter of fact, Izzy was closely followed by a guy with dirty blonde hair. He was a much taller than her and kind of skinny, although you could clearly see he was muscular. His shaggy hair fell in his face, hiding his eyes even more than his glasses did.

"Maybe it's her boyfriend?" Garrett suggested casually, looking at Trish for an answer, his heart beating furiously. Lucas turned his alarmed attention to the fasionista.

"Trust me, no boyfriend anywhere in the picture." she answered.

Garrett almost sighed in relief.

"Her brother maybe? I heard her mention she had a brother once or twice." Lucas suggested in turn.

"First, I've seen a picture of her brother and he didn't look anything like that. Secondly-" she interrupted herself as though she was about to say something she shouldn't.

But Garrett had picked up on something else:

"He _didn't_ look like that?" he questioned quizzically.

Trish seemed to whither under Lucas and Garrett's interested gazes. She was biting the corner of her lower lip and you could see the debate going on in her mind through her brown eyes.

"Well, she never actually said this was a secret…" she said slowly, like she was trying to convince herself. "But you still can't go around talking about it to her, it's a rather sore subject."

Lucas and Garrett nodded and leaned in over the table.

"He died… well I guess it'll be a year ago soon." she whispered thoughtfully. "Hit by a drunk driver while standing on a sidewalk."

"That's awful." Lucas breathed out in horror.

"Were they close?" Garrett asked, wondering of Izzy's nightmare and tears that night at the Grand Canyon had been about her brother.

"No, not at all. He really screwed her up growing up. Put her through hell more than brothers usually do." she answered cryptically.

Lucas was about to say something, probably ask what Trish meant when bouts of shouting and sudden movement coming from Izzy's table stopped him.

"Pis c'est juste maintenant que vous me l'dites?!" Izzy shouted, walking away briskly.

"Izzy…" the guy said pleadingly, catching up to her and grabbing her arm. "Moi pis ta mère on pense que tu devrais revenir à maison…"

"Does anybody understand French?" Lucas whispered confusedly.

"Shh!" Garrett and Trish hissed in unison.

_I should've taken French class in high school…_ Garrett reprimanded himself.

"Câliss Guillaume, si tu pense que j'vais rentrer à maison juste parce que ma mère le veut tu t'met le doigt dans l'œil profond en Tabarnak!" and she stormed out of the cafeteria.

As the guy- Guillaume was it?- walked by their table to exit the cafeteria himself and escape the on-lookers– and there were a few– Garrett couldn't help himself from catching him by the arm.

"Excuse me, but do you know Izzy?" he asked bluntly.

The guy seemed taken aback and lost for a while. _Maybe he doesn't understand English…_

"Yes…" he finally answered. "We're related." he seemed to hesitate then, maybe looking for his words. "She's my cousin."

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"Ok, everybody ready on set! Lights! Camera! ACTION!" Peter shouted.

I watched from the stands as the scene was shot, holding my breath until Peter shouted "CUT!" and everybody stopped what they'd been doing. "Ok guys, get ready, we're gonna do it one more time." he said loudly so everyone could hear.

I jogged up to him and pulled on his shirt sleeve. "Pete, can I talk to you?"

"Yeah, you have about five minutes for them to set up for the shoot. We're way behind schedule here…" he trailed off.

"Look… I got some… family problems I have to take care of. I'm afraid I won't be able to finish the shoot with you guys."

"What? No Izzy, you can't do that to me!"

"I'm sorry Pete. If there was a way to get out of it, I would, you know that."

He put his left arm around my shoulder, lowering his voice, "Is it your mom?"

"Yeah…" telling part of the truth isn't lying, is it?

"Ok, but you have to give me time to find you a suitable replacement, ok?"

"I can't give you more than a month, I'm warning you."

"Ok."

"Hey Pete, we're ready!" shouted one of the assistants.

"Gotta go. We'll talk some more later, ok?"

I nodded and walked away.

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"So Izzy, what's this all about?" Pete asked me later that night.

He had taken me out to dinner to talk over my decision to leave.

"Like I said, some family situation came up that I have to take care of." I stated simply.

"Is your mom getting worse?" he asked softly, leaning forward.

I had told Peter about my mom from the moment he had hired me. Out of obligation; I knew there was a chance I might have to take care of my mom when the chemo got to be too much for her to take.

"It's not just that…" I sighed. "Peter if I could tell you more, I would but I don't feel like I can. And I'd appreciate you not saying anything to anyone until I'm ready to leave. They'll all just ask question I don't feel like answering."

"Izzy, I can't just not tell people! I'll have to justify the search for a replacement and accounting will need to be notified that you're leaving…"

"I know…" I had to admit I hadn't given the logistics of things a thorough thought. "But can't you hold off until the last minute?"

"Okay." he finally answered. "But what about when I find your replacement? Will you tell people then?"

"I don't know…"

"You can't just up and leave without saying goodbye to your friends at least." he pointed out.

_Can't I?_ I felt like crying out. Telling Trish would be hard enough. But telling Lucas and Garrett would be worse. Especially Garrett. She didn't even know why thinking of saying goodbye to him made her heart ache so much. The guy seriously got on her last nerve. But then again, those rare moments she had spent alone with him had been different. He'd been different.

"Earth to Izzy…" Peter pulled her out of her thoughts. "So I just want to check there isn't anything I could do to change your mind."

I shook my head. "There isn't. I don't want this either, but it's not up to me anymore."

"Izzy, I really wish you'd tell me what's going on. I'm worried about you."

I really did feel like telling Peter. I had become somewhat close to him throughout the movie and kind of saw him as a sort of father figure. Not that I didn't have one but my dad _was_ over 1500 miles away.

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Emma and Jay walked in the restaurant and waited patiently for the hostess to lead them to a table. While they waited, Jay looked around the room at all the different couples then did a double take.

"Is that Peter and Izzy?" he asked, indicating their general direction with his head.

"Yeah, it is! That's weird…" Emma said thoughtfully.

"You don't think they're…" Jay trailed off.

"No!" she was abashed. "No way. They're probably talking business. You know how Izzy gets." she patted his arm reassuringly.

"You think?" he looked at Emma. "Because I don't know how Lucas would react if ever…"

"Oh, forget Lucas, what about Garrett?"

"Garrett?" he almost laugh but didn't after he caught Emma's glare.

"Guys don't notice anything." she sighed exasperatedly. "He's totally into her!" she spelled it out.

"You think? But he's always saying how much he hates her and calls her a bitch." Jay was really confused. Matters of the heart weren't his forte.

"When was the last time you actually heard him say those things?"

Jay thought long and hard. When _was_ the last time Garrett had complained about Izzy? Now that he tried to remember, he couldn't. It seemed like such a long time ago, like in another lifetime. Was Garrett really into Izzy?

"See, I'm telling you. He's fallen hard for her."

"Well, they _have_ stopped fighting all the time…" Jay said slowly. "I'd just figure it was because he didn't have anything against her anymore now that he's out of his cast…"

Finally, the hostess smiled at them and led them to a table. Jay could still see Peter and Izzy but she had her back to him. Emma took his hand in hers and then he forgot all about the director and the physiotherapist until Emma left for the bathroom between the main course and dessert. While he waited for her to come back, he started staring at Peter and Izzy again.

"Honey?" Emma asked when she came back and he didn't even look up.

"Does that look like a business face?" Jay asked and she couldn't help but turn around and look at Peter and Izzy.

Peter's face was crestfallen and Izzy's shoulders were shaking heavily. Peter then called the waitress to their table and handed her a wad of cash. He then helped Izzy up, put an arm around her shoulders and walked her out, not even bothering to wait for his change. When they turned the corner toward the door, Jay and Emma got their fist glimpse at Izzy's face; it was drowned in tears.

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**A/N:** Ok, you _must_ be wondering what is up with Izzy. And maybe some of you are even asking yourself "How much crap can happen to one person?" I honestly can say I found myself asking that same question after the first two seasons of 24. But that's besides the point. The point is, a fic would be pretty boring without drama, don't you think? So now make me happy (see how quickly I update when I'm happy?) and review your hearts out.


	9. In Waiting of Things to Come

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anyone or anything except this story, the plot and Izzy, Trish, Emma, Aidan and Leon. This is _fiction_, look it up in the dictionary people, it means something made up. Thanks to my ever growing number of reviewers, I LOVE YOU!

**A/N:** This one is a long one. I thought about making two chapters out of it but decided not to because I want this fic to have an even number of chapters. There will be a chapter 10 after this and then that's it, it'll be done. I'm sorry it took so long for me to update but I hit a wall commonly called 'writer's block'. But finally I was able to write this thing and I'm not totally sure about the end of the chapter but I was just too damned sick of writing. So read and review, tell me what you think and I'll post chapter 10 some time next week. Now shoo.

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**Chapter 9: In Waiting of Things to Come**

After my meltdown in the restaurant, Peter had taken me back to the hotel and we had sat in his room discussing what was happening to me. We talked for hours on end without coming to another solution other than the one I had already come to; that I had to leave the set as soon as a replacement was found for my position.

I knew for a fact that no one on my team wanted it; they all felt none of them deserved it over anyone else on the team, that they were all equals and didn't want to boss their peers around. I knew because after telling Peter I had to leave the set, I had held a meeting with my staff to explain as much of the problem as I could bear to which wasn't much.

So after all that talking, I was just hoping I'd be able to get to my room, put on my pajamas and go to sleep. Of course, it wasn't what Trish had in mind; Trish wanted to talk.

"So what did your cousin want?" she asked anxiously the moment I set foot in our room.

"How d'you know he was my cousin?" I asked tiredly, taking my shoes off.

"Garrett asked." her eyes twinkled excitedly. _Hm, I don't like that twinkle…_

"He came to give me news…" I trailed off. "Bad news." I added after a moment of thought.

"Oh?" she asked gently.

"Family stuff."

"'Family stuff'? That's all I get?" she seemed insulted.

"Yes, that's all you get." I answered gruffly, then gave in. "He said him and my mom wanted me to go back home."

"WHAT?" she jumped off her bed.

I made her wait for my answer while I put my pajamas on. I even stretched out the wait long enough to brush my teeth and wash my face. Once I was comfortably sitting under the sheets, I finally turned to her expectant face.

"I'm not going to of course." I stated like it was obvious.

"Of course." she repeated.

"I'm not one to do as people expected me to."

A smirk appeared on her face and she looked at me interestedly.

"No I guess you're not." she said knowingly.

_Knowingly? Hold on a sec…_

"What is that supposed to mean?" I asked cautiously.

"Oh nothing." she turned the light on her nightstand off, lay down and pulled the sheets up to her neck. "Just something Garrett might have mentioned that you didn't see fit to."

_Oh. Shit. The kiss. She knows._

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The next morning, when I woke up I felt stressed and jumpy. I was in some sort of heightened alertness, like I was bracing myself to get hit. It was a really intense way to feel and quite draining; so draining in fact that by lunchtime, I told my staff I would take the rest of the afternoon off because I wasn't feeling well.

The stress was too much to handle and I really wasn't feeling well. I was never good at handling stress. I knew the rest of my time on set would be awful. I could already feel the oh-so-familiar pain of heartburn. Plus I felt nauseated and I just wanted to sit next to the toilet and wait for the queasiness to pass.

I had just finished puking when the door to our room opened and I heard people rushing in.

"Izzy?" Trish called out. She knocked on the bathroom door, "Are you ok?"

I heard muffled whispers and flushed. I splashed my face with water and sat on the toilet, waiting for the room to stop spinning.

"Who's with you?" I asked, eyes closed, head between my knees.

"Garrett and Lucas." she answered through the door.

"Go away, all of you." I demanded. I hated being seen sick.

"But Jess told us you took a sick day!" Lucas intervened nervously from the other side of the door. "You _never_ take a sick day!" he pointed out.

"Afternoon. I only took the afternoon off. I got a migraine and I'm puking. Now go away." I explained.

There was obvious arguing between my three friends and I rolled my eyes.

"I'll stay with you." Trish called through the door.

"I said I want to be alone!" I roared impatiently. "I have a migraine; noises make it worse, light makes it worse and smells make it worse. I want to be left alone!"

After another long debate, I heard our room's door open and feet shuffling out.

"Ok, we'll leave you alone." Trish capitulated through the bathroom door. "If there's anything, call me ok?"

I didn't answer and after a while I heard our bedroom's door open and close and sighed in relief. _Finally, a little peace and quiet._

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Ok, so by now you might have come to the realization that I am an imperfect individual whose worst flaw is the inability to deal. Deal with what you might ask? How about everything? I am unable to deal. Period.

Knowing me so intimately, you will surely guess what happened in the weeks preceding my departure from the set; a whole lot of nothing. Surprised? How could you be? You guessed it right, I didn't tell anyone I was leaving, except those few people who were on a need to know basis. And my 'friends' – by the way, can you tell I have issues using the term? – were most definitely _not_ part of the privileged few who needed to know or so it seemed to me.

So life went on as normally as it could, considering the state of mind and body I was in, factoring also the awkwardness I felt whenever I was anywhere near Garrett or Lucas. I was awkward around Garrett because, well duh, I had kissed him. And I was awkward around Lucas because, well duh, I had kissed Garrett.

"So this is where you've been hiding?" a voice pulled me from my thoughts.

It was Garrett. _Me? Hiding? Never!_

"Hey Garrett." I said instead. Awkwardly.

"So what's up?" he asked, sitting on the roof next to my lounge chair.

"Oh, you know the usual. Evaluate injuries, take x-rays, bully patients into using their crutches if they need them…" I trailed off. "You?"

"Oh, you know the usual." he mimicked playfully. "Say a few lines, get tackled and pummelled to the ground, think of this girl who kissed me, training…" he trailed off too.

_Ok, so he mentioned the kiss. That doesn't mean we actually have to talk about it…_

"Izzy, we're gonna have to talk about that kiss eventually…" he unknowingly objected.

_Shit. Do we have to?_

"Ok so why don't I go first?" he ploughed on when I didn't answer. "Well, all I have to say about it is that I really enjoyed it and would really like an encore. My only complaint is that it was way too short." he was trying to be light-hearted and cool about it, I could see that but it was no use.

I can't deal, remember? So I clammed up and said nothing, looked away from him and flat out ignored him. Being the smart and cunning guy I know he is, he took the hint and left me alone to mull his words over. That or he was just insulted that I was ignoring him. Surely it was the first?

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Garrett was going insane replaying the kiss he shared with Izzy in his mind over and over again. It was the only thing he thought about and his distraction was hindering his work. He forgot his lines and played football like a beginner, like he hadn't gone through three weeks of training. Peter was starting to lose patience with him; he'd come up to Garrett and said to "deal with whatever was making him suck so much at his job" and take a few days off until he was ready to work.

Garrett walked off the field, his head hung low in shame and he entered the empty locker room dejectedly. He tore open his locker door and a small piece of paper flew out and landed softly on the hard concrete floor. Garrett bent down and reached for it and brought it up to his face to read the note.

_Let's just pretend it never happened._

It was obviously from Izzy and he was hurt by the rejection. Then he was angry that she had written him a note. _A note!_ How cowardly was that?! He balled up the note and threw it away, sighing defeatedly. He took off his uniform and equipment then headed for the showers. Ten minutes later, he was stepping out of the locker room his hair still wet and headed to the pick-up stop for the shuttle service to and from the hotel.

"Hey," a feminine voice called out from behind.

Turning around, his eyes met those of the girl who played Marie in the movie. "Hi, um, uh…" _What's her name again?_

"Amber." she smiled. "It's ok you don't remember my name. After all, we only made out about twenty times last week." she teased.

"Sorry, I'm pretty bad with names." he lamely explain.

"So, how come you're not at the shoot?" she asked, sitting down on the curb next to him.

"Oh, uh Peter sent me away because lately I've been ruining every shot I'm in." he laughed pitifully.

"It can't be that bad!" she laughed.

"No, it really is. My head's just not in the right place, you know? I've got a lot on my mind." Garrett simply explained.

He finally spotted the van from the shuttle service coming around the stadium and got up, offering his hand to Amber and helping her up. Once up, she stood really close to him and her hand lingered on his arm. Garrett was flattered but uninterested… until the van stopped in front of him and Amber and Izzy stepped out. She looked at Garrett and Amber then quickly looked away, whispering a faint 'Hello' before trying to walk away.

"Hey Izzy," he could feel Amber lean in to him. "This is Amber. She plays Marie in the movie." Garrett introduced her.

Izzy didn't really have a choice but to come back to us and shake hands with Amber, a dry yet polite smile on her face.

"I'm Isabelle," she introduced herself. "I'm the physical therapist for the shoot." she added.

"Oh, is that why you're here?" Amber asked worriedly.

"Yeah apparently there's a bit of a situation out on the field. Peter called me over. So I got to go, sorry." Izzy quickly added and walked off, a slight pained look on her face.

"Are you coming?" Amber asked from inside the van.

"Yeah, sure." Garrett answered, looking at Izzy as she pulled open the stadium doors.

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Garrett didn't know why he let things get so far with Amber. She started hanging with him, Lucas and Jay all the time, following them around, eating at their cafeteria table and coming up to Lucas and Garrett's room whenever they had down time.

And Garrett let her kiss him. At first he had gently pushed her away but the less he saw Izzy, the more frustrated her got with her, the less he resisted Amber's limps. And that night, lying in her bed while she slept next to him, Garrett felt awful for leading her on when he clearly wasn't over Izzy.

Sighing, he got out of bed and got dressed. He was putting his sneakers on when Amber turned and her arm felt around the bed for him. She opened her eyes and rubbed the sleep out of them before crawling up to Garrett, not minding her nudity.

"Hey hot stuff, where you going?" she asked, snaking her arms around Garrett's waist and kissing his neck.

"I have to get back to my room…" he simply answered, getting up.

"Ok, I'll see you at breakfast." she smiled and went back to sleep.

When he stepped out of her room which was on the fourth floor of the hotel, instead of pressing the 'down' button of the elevator, he pushed the 'up' and got off on the last floor. Then he walked to the emergency exit stairwell and walked up the last flight of steps that led to the roof.

The lawn chair was still at the edge of the roof and he sat on the cold plastic, looking up at the lightening sky. He was lost in thoughts of how he could stop whatever was going on between him and Amber and what to do about Izzy when someone cleared their throat, pulling him back to reality.

"So you should think about getting your own chair…" Izzy's voice brought a smile to his lips.

"You're not big on sharing?" he asked teasingly as he looked up at her.

"Something like that…"

She was obviously still in her sleepwear; short shorts and a tank top over which she had thrown an old worn-out and faded hoodie. Her hair was up in a messy bun and she had pillow marks on her face. _God she's gorgeous!_

"Couldn't sleep?" he asked as she sat down at the other end of the law chair.

"Oh no, I was sleeping fine… Until I woke up with nausea." she seemed exhausted.

"Another migraine?" Garrett asked.

"Something like that…" she answered again.

They fell into a surprisingly comfortable silence as they both stared at the vanishing moon and Izzy wrapped her arms around herself trying to keep warm. Garrett pulled her closer to himself and at first she resisted until her back made contact with his chest. She let him wrap his arms around her waist and leaned into the strong body and rested her head against his shoulder.

"Don't get any ideas; I'm just staying like this until my nausea goes away. After that, it's back to bed for me. Five o'clock is way too early to be up for someone in my condition-" there was a sharp intake of breath.

"In your condition?" Garrett asked curiously.

"Um, yeah, I mean someone who's been sick a lot lately. Need my rest and all." she answered quickly. _A little too quickly maybe…_

Garrett and Izzy were completely still and silent. Soon, the sun was fully up and Garrett was about to say something to the immobile girl when he noticed her breathing was slow and regular and her body completely limp. He sat up a little to peer into her face and sure enough, her closed eyes indicated she had fallen asleep.

Thinking he wasn't about to wake her, Garrett closed his own eyes and rested his head against the back of the chair, relishing in the feeling of Izzy against his chest, of her hand over his own which lay over her stomach and of the soft warmth that emanated from her body. As sleep took him over, a smile crept to Garrett's face.

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When I woke up, I was incredibly hot and felt somewhat constricted. I opened my eyes only to look out at the scenery surrounding the hotel and understood I was on the roof. Then I remembered finding Garrett here early this morning and looked down at the weight that was on my stomach, to find hands over mine I immediately knew were Garrett's.

I sat up and twisted to look back at him. His eyes were still closed but he had a big goofy grin on his face so I knew he was awake. I tried to pry his hands apart so I could get up but he resisted and laughed. He was still holding me as he sat up, laughing at my efforts to set myself free.

"Is that nausea of yours gone?" he asked teasingly.

"Yeah, it is. Now could you let me go so I'm not late for work?" I asked, finally stopping trying to separate his hands.

"All you had to do was ask." he let go of me and I got up.

"You coming down to breakfast?" I asked as I looked back at him. He had leaned back against the chair and closed his eyes again.

He winced. "Uh I think I'll wait until the cafeteria's a bit emptier…" I looked at him quizzically, knowing Garrett was always starved in the morning and could never get to the cafeteria soon enough. "Let's just say there are certain people I'm trying to avoid…"

I furrowed my brow in confusion. _Did he mean me?_

"I kinda let things go too far with Amber…" he mumbled, obviously ashamed.

"Oh." I honestly didn't want to hear about this.

"It's just that things are so messed up lately…" he looked up accusingly at me. "Half the time I'm mad at you for leaving that stupid note in my locker and the other half I'm driving myself insane replaying that kiss in my mind…"

I started to walk away. This was one subject I really couldn't talk about.

"Oh right, just walk away!" Garrett yelled at me. "You're such a coward!"

"You don't get it do you?!" I screamed back at him, turning around quickly. "I can't… I can't deal with all this shit!" I yelled at the top of my lungs. "It's too much! I don't want to think about any of it anymore! It's too much for me to handle! So just stop trying to talk about it with me!"

"You know what? FINE! I won't talk to you about it anymore! But you can't expect me to pretend like it never happened! I will not pretend you never kissed me!" Garrett was now mere inches away from me, screaming in my face. "Because I happen to like you a lot you stubborn coward!"

I stepped back as though I had been hit in the face. Garrett was breathing heavily and looked surprised by his own words. I just shook my head and walked away, throwing the door to the stairwell open and flying down the stairs.

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I was now in my office going through case files when there was a knock on my door. Looking up from the pile of papers, I saw Peter leaning on the doorframe and gestured for him to come in. He did, closed the door behind him and sat across from me. He put his elbows on his knees and cupped his face with his hands. He sat silently like that for a few minutes a look of regret on his face then sighed and sat back in his chair.

"I've found your replacement." he let the words fall out of his mouth slowly.

"Oh." What else was there to say?

"He'll be here on Monday." We were now Wednesday.

"Ok."

"His name's-" I put my hand up to interrupt him. I didn't need to know. "I've booked you a flight home for tomorrow night."

"Alright." Man, I'm a walking one-liner aren't I?

Seeing as there really wasn't anything more to discuss, I turned my attention back to the stack of files on my desk, opening one at random, hoping Peter would get the hint and leave me alone. Apparently, Peter wasn't good at picking up hints or just good at ignoring them.

"So, when are you gonna tell them you're leaving?" he asked nonchalantly.

"Them?" I asked innocently.

"Yes, them, your friends, remember them? Those pesky people always worrying about you?" he said as though trying to jog my memory.

"Eventually." I gave him another one-liner.

"Would I be right in assuming your concept of 'eventually' is close to that of 'never'?" Peter asked somewhat accusingly.

I finally looked up from the files in front of me and sighed. "Peter, don't take this the wrong way but that's none of your concern." I furrowed my brow.

"I beg to differ. See, if you just up and leave without saying anything to them, then they'll all be depressed and suck at their respective jobs. And seeing as two of the people who will be most affected by your leaving are kinda-sorta stars of the movie, it is my problem."

I sighed again. I even rolled my eyes at him. But he didn't budge.

"Fine." I finally gave in. "I'll talk to them but at the very last minute." he was about to object, "Those are my terms and conditions." I said stubbornly.

Did I ever mention how pig-headed I am? It runs in the family, believe me, you should meet my dad… And his 8 brothers and 3 sisters… and my 25 cousins. That makes for a whole lot of pig-headedness.

"Fine." he gave in. And then he finally got up and left my office.

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So here I was, up at seven on this Thursday morning, finishing packing my suitcases when Trish woke up and stared at me confusedly.

"Is the shoot over and I didn't get the memo?" she asked, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes.

I sat on my bed and looked at her. "No." she looked at me even more confusedly. "I have to go back home. My mom's not doing well at all… My dad thinks it'll be over soon."

That wasn't totally a lie; my dad _had_ phoned me two days earlier telling me Mom had taken a turn for the worst. I told him I'd be home in a couple of days.

"Izzy, I'm sorry…" Trish whispered as she got up from her bed and sat next to me, wrapping a sympathetic arm around my frame.

"Thanks." I smiled weakly. "Do you think you could call Lucas and Garrett's room and ask them to meet me in the lobby? I'd like to say goodbye before the car taking me to the airport gets here." I asked as a lonely tear rolled down my cheek.

"Sure. When?"

"The car should be here in about half an hour. Oh and please call Jay and Emma too…" I gave her an apologetic smile.

I brushed away the tears escaping her chocolate-brown eyes as she nodded and picked up the phone. I finished my packing then walked out of the room, one hand holding one of my suitcases the other clasping Trish's hand. She had insisted to take my other suitcase.

We got to the lobby and I looked out, making sure the car wasn't already there. Only a minute later, the elevator doors open with a 'ding!' and Lucas and Garrett ran out, quickly followed by Jay and Emma.

"You're leaving?" Lucas asked desperately.

"Why didn't you say anything sooner?" Garrett added accusingly.

I just smiled at them sadly. Then I took out envelopes from my tote bag and handed one to each of them.

"This is the picture Peter took of all of us when we were at the Grand Canyon. I asked him to print a copy for each of you." I smiled and then put my hand on Lucas's, who was about to open his envelope. "Please, don't open them until I'm gone. I wrote you each a note and if you read them now, we'll all just start crying and I don't feel like crying…" I explained as I angrily wiped tears from my cheeks.

Lucas nodded and pulled me in for a hug. I hugged him back tightly and when he pulled back, I gave him a kiss on the cheek. He gave me a sad grin and I wiped away his own tears. Then I proceeded to hug and kiss Trish, Emma, Jay and lastly, Garrett. As he let go of me, he gently squeezed my hand and I gave him a special smile. Then one of the hotel's staff walked in from outside the lobby and told me the car that was to take me to the airport was here.

Jay and Lucas grabbed my luggage and the small group followed me outside. I hugged Trish one last time and took a second to look at them. _My friends…_ I thought with a smile. Then I got in the car and restrained myself from looking back as the car drove off…

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The letters: Trish

_Dear Trish,_

_I want to thank you for being my friend these past couple of months. I really appreciated the way you took interest in me and my moods, even if I'm not always the easiest person to understand. You made being away from my best friend bearable and I really hope we'll keep in touch even though I'm not on set with you anymore._

_I hope when you learn of the full reason for my departure that it won't change the way you feel about me or see me. I love you and hope to talk to you soon._

_Love,_

_Izzy_

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The letters: Lucas

_Dear Lucas,_

_I hope by now you have found it in your heart to forgive me for not returning your feelings. I really wish I could have felt about you the same way you felt about me, because you're a great guy and any girl would be lucky to have you. I hope that didn't sound as lame to you as it did to me. But still, thanks for respecting my wishes and I am really glad to be able to count you as one of my friends. I wish you the best in everything, especially love. I'm not worried about what the future holds for you Lucas, because good things happen to good people. And you, my friend, are one of the good guys._

_Cheers,_

_Izzy_

_P.S. If I might be so bold as to suggest something… You might want to take a better look at Trish because she's got it bad for you!_

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The letters: Garrett

_Dearest Garrett,_

_I'm guessing you would rather I had told you in person what I had to say instead of writing you this letter, but this is all I could do. You of all people should understand by now how week I can get, and know I have a tendency to run away from confrontation. Alas, that is the way I am._

_I can't begin to put in words how much you mean to me. And although I know actions speak louder than words, don't take into account the way I've behaved in the past few weeks because that was the only way I found for me not to go insane… I'll never regret kissing you at the Grand Canyon or even attempt to forget it. I'll cherish that kiss for as long as I'll live._

_With the most sincere love,_

_Your Izzy xxx_

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Later that evening, Peter asked their little group to meet with him in one of the many reception rooms of the hotel. As they sat in silence at the banquet tables, Peter looked at them and cursed Izzy for talking him into telling them of the reason she left. Finally, when he couldn't take their defeated expressions anymore, he sat on the table that was all the way at the front of the room and cleared his throat.

"Izzy asked me to tell all of you why she left." he finally spoke up. "At first I didn't want to but then I understood what an incredibly fragile person Izzy really is deep down and that she couldn't take to see disappointment or anything of that nature in your eyes even for a fraction of a second. A little over a month ago, Izzy got a visit from one of her cousins."

"Yeah Guillaume…" Trish interrupted. "We saw them have this huge fight in the cafeteria."

"So you know what that fight was about?" Peter asked.

"No, they spoke in French…" Lucas informed.

"Ok… well basically, Guillaume was sent by Izzy's mom to give her a bit of bad- well, no not really bad- more like shocking news." Peter took a deep breath.

"What news?" Garrett asked aloud.

"I'll tell you soon… just… wait." Peter breathed deeply again. "At first, she was really angry because they'd waited so long to give her that bit of news… Then Guillaume told Izzy they- that is, Izzy's mom, her dad, Guillaume, her whole family if you will- wanted her to come back home. She said she wasn't about to go running home just because her mom told her so or something along those lines."

Peter took another deep breath then got up and started pacing across the room.

"After she calmed down and saw she didn't really have any other choice but to go back home, she came to see me and told me she had to leave and I had to find her a replacement. She gave me a month. That same night, I took her out to a restaurant in town to try to get to the bottom of why she was leaving and to try to dissuade her…"

"That's when Jay and I saw you and Izzy!" Emma exclaimed.

"You did?"

"Yeah, we were at that same restaurant. And then you and Izzy left and she was crying!" Emma continued.

"Yes. She was crying and I finally understood she didn't have a choice besides leaving. So I found her a replacement and then I booked her a seat on a plane back to Canada."

Peter had now stopped pacing and his face was contorted in some weird painful expression.

"So, what _did_ Guillaume tell her that was so shocking?" Trish finally asked.

"Izzy's pregnant." Peter's words were like a bomb exploding in the room.

"PREGNANT?!" everyone screamed, gasped and mumbled almost all at once.

"How… when? How could she not know?!" Lucas blurted out.

"Izzy had been through a really rough time before she came out here…" Peter began and Trish understood Izzy had told him about being raped. "After a few weeks, she noticed she was… late… you know, her period didn't come..." he seemed really uncomfortable discussing Izzy's period of lack of. "When she told her doctor about this, he only said it was most probably a result of the immense stress she was under. Still, he drew some blood just to make sure there wasn't anything physically wrong with her. But he told her not to worry, that she'd get her period back eventually."

"But that was months ago!" Garrett cried out.

"Yes. But at first, when her doctor's office caller her home, they wouldn't tell Izzy's mom why they were calling. You know, for patient confidentiality. Eventually, when they understood Izzy wouldn't be back for months, they told her mom about her results. A few weeks later, Izzy's mom sent Guillaume here to break the news to her."

Finally having delivered Izzy's story to her friends, Peter sat back down on the table at the front of the room and let them absorb everything he had told them. He knew Trish would probably fill them in on everything else about Izzy's past. He finally got up and just as he was about to exit the room told them to take the rest of the week off but that he'd expect them to be ready to work on Monday. Sometimes, he really hated his job…

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**A/N:** well, what did you think? Reviews?


	10. His Izzy

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything or anyone from the movie be that character, cast or crew.

**A/N: **This is it kiddies, the last chapter. And no, there won't be a sequel, follow-up, spin-off featuring Trish or Epilogue. Now read and please, please, please REVIEW!!!

**A/N 2:** I dedicate this chapter to **Trizzy** because she rocks. Trizzy, enjoy and please don't hate me too much.

**Chapter 10: His Izzy**

Garrett didn't know what he was doing here. She'd made it perfectly clear she didn't want anything to do with anybody from the movie. She had returned the invitation to the premiere. Peter told him she hadn't even cashed in her last pay checks and had sent them back. So he really didn't know why he had come all the way here from California, to be turned away at the doorstep.

The address he had gotten from Peter led him to a nice gray house, with a big screened porch. Nestled about halfway up a mountain, it overlooked the valley. The drive snaked around the hill to stop on the house's side and was flanked by a three car garage. This place was really peaceful, hidden in the mountain's breast. There were trees everywhere and the only sound you could hear was the rustle of wind in the leaves.

As Garrett stopped the engine and got out of the car, he was met by a black and white border collie that barked a few times then proceeded to licking Garrett's hands clean. After patting the dog, he looked up and saw Izzy sitting on the porch, looking down the valley. He walked up to the porch, knowing by her expression that she was lost in her thoughts and most probably hadn't even noticed he was there.

When he was almost at the porch door, the house's door swung open and a man came out. It was Izzy's cousin who had visited her on the set, the one she had had the huge row with.

"Can I help you?" he asked, stopping before the screen door.

"Yeah. My name's Garrett Hedlund, I'm a friend of Izzy's"

"Izzy?" the young man asked and then comprehension dawned on his face. "Oh you mean Jessica." he gestured to Izzy, who was still not paying attention.

"Jessica?" Garrett was extremely confused. _Why would her own cousin not call her by her name?_

"I think you might want to have a seat if I'm to explain everything to you." the young man opened the screen door and Garrett entered the porch. "Jessica? I'm going inside for a while, ok?"

Izzy- _or Jessica?_- nodded absentmindedly, still staring into empty space. Garrett's confusion was at its peak but he still followed Izzy's cousin. Inside, there was a winding staircase going to the upper floor but the two men headed for the back of the house, toward a great room divided from the rest of the house by French doors and a step down.

The room was painted a soft shade of butter yellow and the floor was black and white ceramic tiles. There was a fireplace on the right wall and a piano on the left. Black leather wingback chairs and a cream sofa were set around the fireplace to optimize conversation. Other than behind the fireplace and the piano, the walls were all windows and light poured into the room.

"Please, have a seat. Would you like something to drink Mr. Hedlund?"

"No thanks. And please, call me Garrett." he answered politely. "And might I ask what your name is? I know I asked you when you came to the set to visit Izzy but I'm really bad at remembering names." the young man seemed to wince at the use of Izzy's name.

"I'm Aidan. Her brother."

_Her brother?! But Trish said Izzy's brother died over a year ago!_

The confusion must have shown on his face because Aidan sat down across from Garrett with a sigh.

"Look, I don't know what Jessica might or might not have told you back in Texas. I only have an inkling of it based on what her therapist told me of their sessions. My sister Jessica suffers from a delusional disorder, persecutory type."

"I- I don't understand."

"She believes someone- in this case Izzy, her alter-ego- is being or has been mistreated or hurt. From what her therapist told me, Jessica maintains Izzy's been abused by her brother who died somewhat recently. Also, she maintains our mother is dying or dead- I can never manage to keep track- of colon cancer."

"Izzy, I mean Jessica told us her mother had cancer and that her brother was dead but… She doesn't look crazy or anything." Garrett was baffled.

Aidan nodded, "I know. Usually people diagnosed with the disorder are so diagnosed because they show no other symptom of mental illness, like schizophrenia."

"So everything she told us about herself is a lie?" Garrett asked, shell-shocked.

"Technically yes. But to her, it's all real. As real as our conversation will be to you when you leave. She doesn't-"

Aidan was interrupted by a baby's cry and Garrett looked around the room confusedly; there wasn't any baby here.

"Excuse me." Aidan got up and grabbed a small walkie-talkie and disappeared up the stairs.

_A baby monitor... So she _did_ have a baby._

Aidan came back downstairs carrying a baby, a couple of months old Garrett guessed. Aidan sat back down across from him, bouncing the babbling baby gently.

"Is this Izzy's- I mean Jessica's baby?" he asked, leaning forward to get a better look at the infant.

"No." Aidan said rigidly. "My wife passed away giving birth to our son. This is Jacob." he introduced the baby.

"Oh, I'm sorry about your wife." Garrett mumbled. "So, do they know why Iz-Jessica suffers from this disorder?" he asked, changing the subject.

"It started after our mother was hit by a car and died. Something broke inside her. She became totally different and wanted to be called Izzy. We thought maybe she was suffering from a multiple personality disorder but was later diagnosed as delusional. The doctors don't know why she assumed another identity but think it's just another coping mechanism."

"And… I mean she was hired as a physical therapist for the movie and seemed to know what she was talking about. Is that all part of the delusion?"

"No, she really was a physical therapist before our mother passed away. She kept working for a while after our mother's death. I didn't know it then but she'd ask her patients to call her Izzy. When we found out, we had her committed. Then she was deemed fit to come home, as long as she was supervised 24/7. Most of her care givers would let her answer the phone when it rang; I'm guessing that's how she was able to intercept and accept the job offer for the movie. I woke up one morning and she was gone."

"So all the time she was with us, you didn't know where she was?"

"Not a clue. We hired private detectives and eventually they found her. That's when I came down to Odessa. Her therapist had advised me against bringing her back by force or trying to tell her her delusions weren't real. So I reasoned with her within her delusions and she accepted to come back home, on her own terms."

"And those terms were?"

"She'd stay until Peter Berg found a suitable replacement for her."

Garrett's head was swimming with everything Izzy- Jessica! why couldn't he get it through his thick skull!- everything Jessica had ever told him about her. Lies, all lies. The stories about how she had sprained her ankle at summer camp, her first kiss out on the rooftop of her house… everything. Finally, it was all too much and he got up with a heavy sigh.

"I think I should go. Thank you for explaining Iz- Jessica's disorder to me." he reached out his hand to Aidan. "And your son is really adorable." he added, looking at the baby who had fallen back asleep.

"Thanks. I'm glad you came here. Nice to see someone cared enough about Jessica to check up on her." Aidan shook Garrett's hand.

"Do you think… Is it possible to… May I talk to her?" he finally asked.

"I don't know… this isn't one of her good days…" Aidan started reluctantly. "You can try if you want to but ever since she came back, she's not very responsive."

"Thanks."

Garrett walked out of the house and closed the door as baby Jacob started crying. Jessica's head snapped like a whip as she looked back at the house, clearly panicked.

"What's wrong with Jacob? What's wrong with my baby? Why is he crying?" she asked frantically, walking to Garrett and shaking him for answers.

"Nothing, Jacob's fine." he said weakly. Seeing her like this was really hard.

"You wouldn't lie to me, right Garrett?" she asked skeptically, studying his face.

"No, I wouldn't lie to you… Izzy?" he said unsurely.

"I told you Garrett, it's ok now for you to call me Izzy." she reassured him giving him a heart-warming smile.

Gently, Garrett guided her back to her chair and sat in the one next to her. She reached out for his hand with her left one and her right went up to cup his cheek gently.

"I'm glad you came to see me. I missed you." she smiled again.

"I missed you too." his throat seemed to constrict and he had difficulty breathing. He blinked back tears. "How are you Izzy?" he asked softly.

She shrugged. "I'm still sore from the c-section. It's really hard giving birth, you know." she smiled sweetly. "But it's all worth it when I see Jacob. Isn't he perfect?" she beamed at Garrett.

He hesitated slightly before answering then remembered Aidan saying the therapists thought it best not to contradict her in her delusions.

"He's superb."

"Aidan doesn't let me hold him often though." she said gloomily. "I'm sorry I left without explaining things myself. I just couldn't." her voice quivered. "I didn't want to leave, but I had too. I was pregnant, you know?"

"I know, I understand."

This was probably the hardest thing Garrett had ever had to do in his entire life. Jessica only seemed to be an empty shell of the Izzy he knew. She wasn't as vibrant and full of life as Izzy had been. Garrett missed hearing the way she used to laugh, or even the way she used to scold him for not using his crutches.

He looked down at their hands. How he had wished back then for her to tangle her fingers with his own like she was doing now. But she had denied him, just like she had denied Lucas the affection he craved too. She saw him staring at their hands and gave him a squeeze.

"I couldn't show you how I felt back in Odessa. It wouldn't have been fair." she stated as though she had read his mind. "But after that first night on the roof… You had a special place in my heart Garrett. You put up this tough façade in front of everyone but with me, you seemed much more fragile." she caressed his cheek again.

He grabbed her hand and kissed the tips of her fingers. Try as he might, tears still escaped his closed eyes. He opened them to look at his Izzy for what he knew deep down inside was the last time.

"I have to go." he breathed out.

"You won't come back, will you?" she asked lucidly.

"I don't think that would be a great idea." he said, getting up and letting her hands go.

He let his tears flow as he walked away from the one person he had truly ever loved. His heart ached and he had a really hard time to breathe. His chest felt compressed as he sat down behind the wheel of his car and he wondered for a moment if it was safe to drive in his condition. But he turned on the engine and pulled out of the drive, glancing in his rear view mirror at his Izzy one last time.

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Two years later, Garrett sat at some breakfast table in some hotel. His life had seemed to have gone from Technicolor to gray the day he had learned of Jessica's disorder. Now, every day was the same as the one before and every person he met was identical to the ones he already knew. Every once in a while he would pull out that picture Peter had taken at the Grand Canyon two years earlier and caress Izzy's face. To him, she was still Izzy. His Izzy. But the person whom he had met at that beautiful gray house on the screened porch wasn't. That was Jessica, the empty shell of Izzy.

"Hey Garrett, this came for you. It's from Lucas Black." his agent said as she walked in.

She handed him a big yellow envelope and sat at the table across from him. He opened it, curiosity getting the best of him. Lucas and he hadn't been in touch for a while and this letter was intriguing.

A folded newspaper clipping slipped out, followed by a folded piece of white paper. He opened the letter first.

_Hey Garrett,_

_I'm filming in Canada right now and came across this article in the newspaper this morning and I'm sending you a photocopy. I was horrified as I read it and I want you to prepare yourself. This is going to hurt, but I thought you needed to know as much as I did. I know that in your own way, you loved Izzy too._

_Take care of yourself,_

_Lucas._

Frantically, Garrett opened the paper in search of the highlighted article. Finally, he found it and his eyes flew across the headline in shocked horror.

_**PHYCHIATRIC PATIENT TAKES HER OWN LIFE AFTER GRUESOME REVELATIONS ARE MADE**_

_(Associated Press)_

_Gatineau, PQ_

_Authorities were tight-lipped Wednesday morning after the discovery of the body of 23 year old Jessica-Isabelle Legault inside her private room at Pierre-Janet psychiatric center in Gatineau. The young woman had been committed since early 2005, suffering from delusional disorder. Her brother, with whom she had lived until then couldn't take adequate care of her anymore._

_As the day and the investigation progressed, new information was learned that suggested the young woman hadn't been entirely as delusional as the staff thought. Indeed, it seemed Miss Legault had claimed for the past two years that she had given birth to a baby boy as a result of rape and last week, one of Pierre-Janet's staff made a discovery that gave weight to her claims._

_After a violent incident involving another patient, Miss Legault was given a thorough physical examination which revealed a nasty scar on her lower belly. Transferred to the Centre de Santé et de Services Sociaux (CSSS), doctors later concluded it was a scar obtained as a result of a cesarean section._

_Then Monday, two days after the discovery of the scar, police arrested Aidan Legault, Miss Legault's brother and charged him with rape and incest. The news seemed to have been too much for Miss Legault to handle and she apparently hung herself in her room at Pierre-Janet._

_The fate of young Jacob Legault, now two, will be decided after DNA testing and Aidan Legault's trial. The trial is set to begin-_

At that point Garrett stopped reading and let the paper slip to the floor. Tears stained his face as he thought of his last conversation with Jessica – _or Izzy? The paper said her name was Jessica-Isabelle…_ – and how he had ignored her concerns for her son. How he had believed everything Aidan had told him. And he felt guilty for leaving her behind. She told him about having a c-section; he could easily have asked to see the scar. And then he would have known Aidan had been lying, and he could have gotten her out of there.

Three days later, Garrett's cell rang and he was truly surprised to hear Trish's voice on the other end.

"She told me." was the first thing she blurted out.

"What?"

"Izzy. She told me she'd been raped by a guy called Aidan. But she made me promise not to tell." she was clearly crying. "And she told me her brother had molested her when she was younger."

"But she also told you he was dead and that her mother had cancer. Both of which weren't true."

After he had gone to Jessica's and had learned of her disorder, he had contacted Lucas and Trish to tell them the truth. He believed they had every right to know.

"But the rape, her brother… that was real! And after Peter told us why she was leaving… I didn't even try to go see her, see how her pregnancy was going. I was just too mad at her for leaving-

"I know I was too." he answered softly.

"And now she's gone. And her son's gonna be put in foster care and he's gonna have a miserable life!"

"You don't know that…" he tried to reassure her.

But deep down, he knew that was how things would most likely work out for young Jacob. And it killed him. After a few more minutes spent on the phone with Trish, they hung up and Garrett sat on his hotel bed silently, lost in thoughts.

That night, he cried himself to sleep. Cried for the loss of Izzy and the death of Jessica. Cried for what the future held in store for poor Jacob. Cried for the loss of the one person that he'd even been able to let help him- and God only knows how much he needed help. Cried for the loss of the future he had envisioned for himself and Izzy before he had learned about Jessica. But most of all, he cried and sobbed until his throat was raw for the love he had lost and would never find again.

_Lost and broken_

_Hopeless and lonely_

_Smiling on the outside_

_But hurt' beneath my skin_

_My eyes are fadin'_

_My soul is bleedin'_

_I try to make it seem okay but my faith is wearing thin_

_So help me heal these wounds_

_They've been open for way too long_

_Help me fill this hole_

_Even though this is not your fault_

_That I'm open and I'm bleedin'_

_All over your brand new rug_

_And I need someone to help me sow them up_

_I only wanted a magazine_

_I only wanted a movie screen_

_I only wanted the life I'd read about and dreamed_

_And now my mind is an open book_

_And now my heart is an open wound_

_And now my life is an open soul for all to see_

_So help me heal these wounds_

_They've been open for way too long_

_Help me fill this hole_

_Even though this is not your fault_

_That I'm open and I'm bleeding_

_All over your brand new rug_

_And I need someone to help me…_

_So you come along I push you away_

_Then kick and scream for you to stay_

_Cause I need someone to help me_

_Oh I need someone to help me_

_To help me heal these wounds_

_They've been open for way too long_

_Help me fill this hole_

_Even though this is not your fault_

_That I'm open and I'm bleeding_

_All over your brand new rug_

_And I need someone to help me sow them-_

_I need someone to help me fill them-_

_I need someone to help me close them up_

**-The End.**

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**A/N:** There it is. The end. And before anyone tells me I got the facts wrong on delusional disorder, I'll remind you this is _F-I-C-T-I-O-N_ and I'm not claiming to be an expert, I just made it fit the situation. Also, the song in italics at the end of the chapter is the hidden track on Good Charlotte's _The Chronicles of Life and Death_, a song widely referred to as "Wounded". I don't own that either. Now please for one last time, REVIEW and I'll be eternally grateful to you.

A special thanks to **Trizzy** for being my first and most loyal and enthusiastic reviewer.

Thanks to the following people who also reviewed (in nor order of importance):

ashes101

Iris Knotwise

superdani152003

JustAnotherFallen

beautyqueen321

Pilou

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KidWithFace

Peace out!


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